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Photographic 

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I  by  errata 
mad  to 

nent 

une  pelure. 
fapon  d 


32X 

1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

S 

6 

ISTARRATIVE 


OF    THE 


SUFFERING  &  DEFEAT 


OF    THE 


NORTH-WESTERN  ARMY, 


■A 


UNDER  GENERAL  WINCHESTER: 


MASSACRE  OF  TrIE  PRISONERS  :  SIXTEEN  MONTHS  IM- 
PRISONMENT OF  THE  WRITER  AND  OTHERS  WITH 
THE  INDIANS  AND  BRITISH  : 


BY  WILLIAM  ATHERTON. 


FRANKFORT,    KY. 

Printed  for  the  Author  by  A.  (i.  Hodges. 

1842. 


\ 


0    ^ 

A? 


244067 


1 


[Copy  Right  secured  according  to  law.] 


/ 


PREFACE. 


/      : 


The  greater  part  of  this  short  narrative  was  writ- 
ten years  ago.  At  that  time  it  was  intended  for 
publication.  But  for  several  years  past  the  writer 
had  declined  ever  letting  it  come  before  the  world ; 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  solicitations  of  friends, 
it  is  highly  probable  this  intention  would  never 
have  been  changed.  But  relying  upon  the  opinion 
of  those  whom  he  believed  to  be  well  qualified  to 
judge  of  it,  and  believing  them  to  be  sincere  in 
their  expression  of  opinion,  I  have  consented  to  let  it 
go  and  take  its  chance  before  the  public. 

It  was  found  difficult  to  give  such  an  account  of 
that  part  of  the  campaign  which  it  was  thought  to 
be  most  important,  without  commencing  as  far  back 
as  the  departure  of  the  army  from  Kentucky.  This 
part  of  tne  history  has,  however,  been  passed  over 
very  rapidly,  perhaps  rather  too  much  so  to  make  it 
at  all  satisfactory.  The  writer  is  aware  that  he  has 
omitted  much  which  would  have  added  to  the  inter- 
est of  this  little  history  ;  but  he  has  not  leisure  to 
go  over  it  again.  History  has  given  us  an  account 
of  the  sufferings  of  the  North- Western  Army  only  in 
general  terms,  but  no  where,  so  far  as  I  have  been 
able  to  learn,  has  there  been  given  a  particular  detail 
of  the  sufferings  and  privations  of  that  detachment 
of  the  army. 

I  think  it  proper  that  the  rising  generation 
should  know  what  their  fathers  suffered,  and  how 
they  acted  in  the  hour  of  danger ;  that  they  sustain- 
ed the  double  character  of  ^^ Americans  and  Ken- 
hickians.''^    This  narrative  has  been  made  as  concise 


\ 


\ 


4 


PREFACE. 


as  I  could  conveniently  mal<e  it,  and  on  that  ac- 
count, perhaps,  llie  writer  has  not  said  all  that  niig-ht, 
and  that  should  have  been  said.  Jjut  it  is  hoped  that 
what  has  been  ^aid  will  he  sufficient  to  gfive  the 
youtliful  reader  some  idea  of  what  that  "Spartan 
band"  were  called  to  endure.  To  the  old  men  of  our 
country  these  1  hint's,  perhaps,  will  not  be  new. 

With  reji'ard  to  the  massacre  at  llaisin,  the  writer 
has  related  nothiuf^  but  what  he  saw.  What  is  said 
in  reference  to  liie  brave  Hart  and  Hickman,  he 
witnessed  with  his  own  eyes. 

It  may  be  tlioun-]it  that  I  have  been  a  little  too 
severe  in  what  I  have  said  of  British  officers. 
Should  any  tJiink  so,  all  I  have  to  say  is,  had  they 
seen  and  felt  whtit  we  did  there  would  have  been  no 
difference  of  opinion.  By  some  it  will  be  thought 
strange  to  find  the  savages,  in  point  of  feeling  and 
humanity,  placed  above  the  British — but  the  truth 
ought  always  to  he  told. 

One  thing  the  writer  regrets,  and  that  is  his  being 
compelled  so  frequently  to  speak  of  himself.  But 
he  foup-l  .'■  impossible  to  give  a  full  narration  with- 
out it.  othingis  aimed  at  but  a  plain  unvarnished 
statement  of  facts,  a  sober  description  of  scenes,  in 
the  principal  part  of  which  the  writer  himself  was 
an  actor. 


NARRATIVE. 


The  volunteers  from  Kentucky,  under  the 
command  of  Colonels  Allen,  Lewis  and  Scott, 
left  their  homes  on  the  12th  of  August,  1813, 
and  rendezvoused  at  Georcjetovvn  Thence 
took  the  Dry  Ridge  road  to  Cincinnati,  where 
we  remained  a  few  days.  We  then  pursued 
our  march  through  the  State  of  Ohio,  by  the 
way  of  Piqua;  from  which  place  we  were 
called  to  the  relief  of  Fort  Wayne. 

Nothmg  worthy  of  public  notice  occurred 
on  the  way,  except  the  alarm  we  had  at  the 
camp  we  called  "Fighton,"  which  every  sol- 
dier that  was  on  the  ground  no  doubt  recol- 
lects. Though  we  were  alarmed  at  Piqua, 
by  one  of  the  sentinels  shooting  at  a 
horse,  yet  we  had  seen  nothing  such  as  oc- 
curred here.  It  was  a  dark  rainy  night,  just 
such  a  time  as  the  Indians  would  choose  to 
make  an  attack.  We  anticipated  danger, 
and  made  arrangements  to  meet  it.     The 

army  encamped  in  a  hollow  square,  within  a 

1-* 


i^i 


'.  \ 


9' 


ATHERTON^S   NARRATIVE. 


strong  breastwork,  and  guards  were  placed  at 
every  point.  Whether  there  were  Indians 
about  or  not,  some  of  the  guard  thought  they 
heard  them,  and  many  guns  were  fired  on 
post,  and  all  the  camp  called  to  arms.  The 
line  of  battle  was  more  than  once  formed 
during  the  night,  and  at  one  time  kept  under 
arms  an  liour  and  a  half  As  this  was  the 
the  first  cam[)aign  with  most  of  us,  and  also 
the  first  alarm  worthy  of  notice,  it  is  not 
easy  to  imagine  the  degree  of  excitement 
produced  throughout  the  camp.  It  fell  to 
my  lot  to  be  on  guard  that  night,  and  at  the 
time  of  the  greatest  alarm  was  on  post;  the 
guard  was  not  relieved  for  near  an  hour  after 
their  time  had  expired — an  attack  being  mo- 
mently expected. 

When  we  arrived  at  Fort  Wayne,  we 
found  that  the  Indians  which  had  annoyed 
the  fort  for  some  time,  had  retreated.  W"e 
were  then  ordered  to  march  to  two  Indian 
towns,  for  the  purpose  of  burning  the  houses 
and  destroying  their  corn.  When  we  had 
accomplished  this,  and  returned  to  Fort 
Wayne,  we  there  met  the  Kentucky  mount- 
ed volunteers  under  the  command  of  Colonel 
Simrall.  We  marched  from  Fort  Wayne 
on   the  22d  of    September,    and    pursued 


Vi 


ATIIERTOiN'S   NARRATIVE. 


in 


# 


Wavne's  route  down  the  Miami  towards  old 
Fort  Defiance,  where  v  2  arrived  on  the  30th. 
During  the  latter  part  of  this  march  we  were 
frequently  annoyed  by  the  enemy.  Our  ad- 
vance party  of  spies  fell  in  with  a  body  of 
Indians,  and  a  small  skirmish  ensued,  in  which 
one  of  the  spies  was  slightly  wounded,  and 
several  of  the  enemy  killed ;  the  exact  num- 
ber could  not  be  ascertained,  as  the  Indians 
always  carry  oft*  their  dead  when  practicable. 
The  day  before,  Ensign  Liggett,  of  the  regu- 
lars, with  four  men,  w^as  pursued  by  this  body 
of  Indians,  massacred  and  scalped.  The  loss 
of  Ensiojn  Licfsjett  was  much  lamented,  as  he 
was  a  promising  young  ofRcer,  remarkable 
for  bravery  and  intrepidity.  He  had  left  the 
company  of  spies,  with  his  four  companions, 
to  examine  the  countrv  around  Fort  Defi- 
ance,  and  had  advanced  several  miles  ahead 
of  the  party — where  they  were  killed.  Ma- 
ny of  Ensign  Liggett's  friends  are  still  Uving 
in  Kentuckv. 

The  annoyance  from  the  enemy  greatly 
retarded  our  movements,  as  it  w^as  impossible, 
with  any  degree  of  certainty,  to  ascertain 
either  their  situation  or  force.  In  crossing 
the  river,  however,  their  whole  movements 
were  discovered.     The  British,  with  their 


f/ 


8 


ATIIERTON*S   NARRATIVE. 


artillery   from  Detroit,  and  a  large  party  of 
Indians,    wero    progressing    towards    Fort 
Wayne.     After  engaging  our  spies,  and  an- 
noying our  advanced  guard,  they  faced  to 
the  right  about  and  retreated  precipitately. 
Owing  to  the   situation  of  the  army  (being 
short  of  provisions)   it   was   impossible,  b>' 
forced  marches,  to  intercept  them.     At  this 
time  Captain  Bland  Ballard  showed  his  skiM 
in  Indian  fighting,  by  making  good  his  re- 
treat, foi  which  he  deserves  much.     His  Lieu- 
tenant, Munday,  who  had  parted  with  him 
in  the  morning,  also  eilected  a  retreat,  by 
charging  upon  the  Indians,  before  they  ascer- 
tained his   numbers,  and  then   dashing  into 
camp.     The  next  day  our  spies  had  an  ac- 
tion—  had   one    wounded  —  and  saw    sev- 
eral Indians  fall.     The  day  following  the  In- 
dians showed  in  front  of  the  spies,  and  snap- 
ped at  one  of  our  men — a  fire  was  returned, 
which  left  blood  where  the  Indians   stood. 
The  Indian  spies  were  on  horse  back,  vv^hich 
rendered  it  difficult  to  ascertain  their  situa- 
tion.    Our  spies  could  not,  with  propriety, 
venture  far  from  us,  and  we  could  not  ad- 
Tance  until  the  country  was  reconnoitered, 
consequently  our  march  was  slow.     A  short 
turn  to  the  right,  however,  and  crossing  the  ^ 


V 


.mj'i*;f'','i*;'ji 


ATIIEUTON  S   NARRATIVE. 


river  at  an  unexpected  place,  gave  us  the  ad- 
vantnge.  After  crossing  the  river  we  saw 
tliat  tlie  enemy  had  artillery,  and  were  ahead 
of  us.  Wo  were  now  within  six  miles  of 
Defiance.  It  was  very  bushy  for  more  than 
a  mile  before  we  approached  the  fort.  The 
army  remained  at  camp  that  morning,  and 
sent  out  spies  in  every  direction  ;  when  they 
returned,  they  reported  that  the  enemy  had 
gone  od'down  the  river.  It  was  then  deem- 
ed inexpedient  to  move  so  late  in  the  after- 
noon. It  was  supposed  there  were  from  one 
to  two  hundred  Britisli,  with  from  two  to  five 
pieces  of  cannon,  and  from  four  to  six  hun- 
dred Indians.  The  artillery  was  certainly 
brought  up  by  water  to  this  place,  and  re- 
embarked  hero  again.  Their  object  must 
have  been  Fort  Wavne. 

By  this  lime  we  became  very  scarce  of 
provisions,  liaving  nothing  for  some  days  but 
the  poorest  beef.  Some  of  the  men  began 
to  murmer — and  some  went  so  far  as  to  talk 
of  returninnr  home — but  when  this  was 
known  by  the  officers,  measures  were  taken 
to  put  a  stop  to  it.  Colonel  Allen,  in  an  ani- 
mated and  encouraging  address  to  his  men, 
banished  the  idea  of  shrinking  in  the  day  of 
adversity.     Captain   Simpson,  also,  was  not 


^/-'g... 

'^S^., 


'    ! 


10 


atherton's  narrative. 


unemployed.  This  was  the  tirst  time  we 
had  sensibly  felt  the  want  of  bread. 

General  Harrison  returned  to  the  army  on 
the  second  of  October.  We  were  greatly 
animated  at  seeing  him  among  us  once  more. 
He  addressed  the  whole  army  in  a  most  thril- 
ling speech,  which  kindled  in  the  breasts  of 
the  men,  generally,  an  increased  desire  to 
meet  the  enemy,  and  a  willingness  to  endure 
any  privations  they  might  be  called  to  suffer. 
He  remained  with  us  but  a  sbort  time. 

The  enemy  having  retreated  before  us  in 
every  direction,  leaving  us  an  extensive  ter- 
ritory to  occupy;  our  object  then  was  to  es- 
tablish a  chain  of  fortified  posts,  in  order  to 
iacilitate  the  supplies  necessary  for  a  speedy 
invasion  of  Upper  Canada.  Notwithstanding 
we  were  in  the  enemy^s  country,  where  Indian 
spies  were  seen  almost  every  day,  yet  it  was 
impossible  to  keep  the  men  from  imprudently 
hazardinii:  their  lives!  Shortlv  after  our  ar« 
rival  at  Fort  Defiance,  five  of  our  men,  who 
had  been  out  gat'^ering  plums,  were  found 
scalped.  About  this  time  Captain  Garrard's 
troop  of  horse,  and  another  company,  met  a 
scouting  party  of  Indians  and  routed  them. 
One  of  our  militia  was  killed  and  another 
wounded.     In  consequence  of  this  informa- 


'^r.OM. 


atherton's  narrative. 


11 


who 

bund 
ard's 
net  a 
lem. 
)ther 
rma- 


tion,  General  Harrison  marched  the  whole  of 
his  army  from  St.  Mary's  to  Defiance.  Gen- 
eral Harrison  had  heard  from  General  Kelso, 
who  commanded  a  detachment  of  troops  on 
lake  Erie,  that  two  thousand  Inaians  and 
some  regulars  with  several  pieces  of  artillery, 
had  left  Maiden  on  an  expedition  against  Fort 
Wayne !  This  news,  with  other  exaggera- 
ted accounts,  induced  the  belief  that  General 
Winchester  was  likely  to  be  defeated.  As 
before  stated,  all  the  forces  at  St.  Mary's 
were  put  in  motion,  but  before  they  reached 
Defiance  information  of  the  enemy's  retreat 
was  received. 

Before  General  Harrison  left  Defiance,  he 
selected  a  situation  for  a  new  fort.  A  party 
of  men  was  detailed  to  procure  timber  for 
the  buildings.  General  Winchester,  also, 
moved  his  camp  from  the  Miami  to  the  Au- 
glaize river. 

The  command  of  the  left  was  now  con- 
fided to  General  Winchester,  who  was  in- 
structed to  occupy  the  rapids  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible for  the  purpose  of  securing  a  quantity 
of  corn  which  had  been  raised  by  the  inhab- 
itants. 

Before  General  Harrison  left,  he  ordered 
General  Tupper  to  take  all  his  mounted  men 


12 


ATHERtON^S   NARRATIVfi. 


and  proceed  down  the  Miami  as  far  as  the 
Rapids.  When  this  order  was  issued,  Gen* 
eral  Tupper's  command  was  immediately  sup- 
plied with  provision  for  eight  days,  which  in- 
cluded all  the  flour  in  camp.  About  12  o'- 
clock next  day  a  party  of  Indians  fired  on  the 
men  immediately  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
Miami,  one  of  whom  they  killed,  scalped, 
and  then  fled !  This,  for  a  moment,  produced 
alarm,  and  the  troops  were  formed  in  order 
of  battle,  Presently  small  parties  of  horse- 
men began  to  cross  the  river  in  pursuit  of 
the  enemy.  The  horses  were  mostly  at  grass, 
and  as  soon  as  they  could  be  caught  the  own- 
ers engaged  in  the  pursuit.  Eip^ht  or  ten  par- 
ties went,  mostly  from  Colonel  Simrall's  regi- 
ment, in  one  of  which  was  the  Colonel  him- 
self. General  Tupper  ordered  that  no  more 
should  cross,  apprehending  from  the  boldness 
of  the  Indians  that  a  large  body  might  be  ly- 
ing iji  ambush.  General  Winchester  now  or- 
dered Tupper  to  commence  his  expedition  to- 
wards the  Rapids  by  pursuing  these  Indians. 
Tupper  had  previously  sent  Logan  and  six 
other  Indians  to  reconnoiter,  and  did  not  seem 
willing  to  go  until  they  returned.  ,  They  ar- 
rived in  the  evening,  stating  that  they  had 
seen  a  party  of  Indians,  about  fifty  strong,  ten 
miles  down  the  river. 


as  the 
d,  Geri'- 
jly  sup- 
lich  in- 
t  12  o'. 
I  on  the 
k  of  the 
scalped, 
'oduced 
n  order 
I  horse- 
rsuit  of 
It  grass, 
he  own- 
ten  par- 
I's  regi- 
lel  him- 
o  more 
loldness 
t  be  ly- 
ow  or- 
tion  to- 
ndians. 
ind  six 
ot  seem 
ley  ar- 
ey  had 
ng,  ten 


atherton's  narrative. 


IB 


Colonel  Allen  now  offered  his  services  to  ac- 
company Tupper  to  the  Rapids  in  any  station 
he  thought  proper  to  place  him,  from  a  pri- 
vate soldier  upwards.  He  accepted  his  offer, 
and  caused  him  to  be  announced  as  his  aid. 
General  Winchester  issued  positive  orders 
that  General  Tupper  should  proceed;  but  he 
declined,  saying  he  would  prefer  going  by  the 
Ottoway  towns,  &:c. 

At  this  time  about  three  hundred  of  the 
mounted  riflemen,  whose  terms  of  service 
had  expired,  left  the  camp  and  returned  home. 
Colonel  Simrall,  believing  that  the  orders  of 
General  Winchester  to  General  Tupper  would 
not  be  executed,  returned  to  the  settlements 
to  recruit  his  horses  and  be  in  readiness  to 
march  when  his  services  should  be  necessary. 
It  will  be  sufficient  to  say  this  expedition  at 
this  time  failed. 

Alter  the  mounted  men  left  us,  nothing  of 

importance  occurred  for  some  time.    We  were 

engaged  building  the  fort,   which,  through 

much   difficulty,  was  at  length  completed. 

This-  will  appear,  when  it  is  known  that  at 

that  place  we  had  not  our  full  rations.     That 

this  fact  may  be  established,  I  will  give  some 

extracts  from  a  letter,  written  at  the  time,  by 

Jame§  Garrard,  Brigade  Inspector:     **  We 

2 


14 


atherton's  narrative. 


have  not"  says  he  "drawn  a  full  ration  since 
the  8th  September.  Sometimes  without  beef 
— at  other  times  without  flour:  and  the  worst 
of  all,  entirely  without  salt,  which  has  been 
much  against  the  health  of  the  men.  They 
bear  it  with  much  patience,  although  they 
have  been  without  salt  for  five  or  six  days." 
At  this  time  the  sick  amounted  to  two  hun- 
dred and  sixteen  men,  and  there  was  some 
dissatisfaction  in  the  army  against  the  gov- 
ernment because  the  necessary  supplies  were 
not  sent  on.  But  when  they  became  acquaint- 
ed with  the  true  cause  of  the  deficiencv,  that 
the  fault  was  not  in  the  go\jrnment,  but  in 
the  change  of  affairs  since  their  march,  they 
were  perfectly  satisfied.  Again  Mr.  Garrard 
states :  "You  wt>uld  be  surprised  to  see  the 
men  appear  on  the  brigade  parade.  Some 
without  shoes,  others  without  socks,  blankets, 
&c.  All  the  clothes  they  have  are  linen ;  but 
they  discharge  their  duty  with  cheerfulness, 
hoping  that  their  country  will  supply  their 
wants  before  the  severity  of  winter  comes 
on."  There  are  many  who  can  testify  to  the 
truth  of  the  above.  What  clothes  we  took 
with  us  when  we  left  our  homes  had  worn 
very  thin.  Many  left  home  with  their  linen 
hunting-shirts,  and  some  of  these  were  lite- 


atherton's  narrative. 


15 


»n  since 
3Ut  beef 
e  worst 
as  been 

They 
;h  they 
[  days." 
vo  hun- 
IS  some 
he  gov- 
es  were 
:quaint- 
cv,  that 
,  but  in 
ih,  they 
jarrard 
see  the 

Some 
alike  Is, 
en;  but 
fulness, 
their 

comes 

to  the 
ve  took 

worn 
ir  linen 
re  lite- 


rally torn  to  rags  by  the  brush.  We  had  heard 
that  General  Harrison  had  made  a  powerful 
appeal  to  the  ladies  of  Kentucky  and  Ohio^ 
and  we  were  sure  it  would  not  be  in  vain ; 
and  about  this  time  we  learned  that  the  ladies 
of  Kentucky  were  exerting  themselves  to 
relieve  the  soldiers  of  this  army.  It  was 
highly  gratifying  to  us  to  know  that  we  were 
kept  in  remembrance  by  the  ladies  of  our  ^ 
own  State. 

Near  this  time  our  spies  brought  in  a  pris- 
oner.  They  took  him  about  thirty  miles  be- 
low Fort  Winchester.  He  called  himself 
William  Walker;  had  been  with  the  Indians 
near  thirty  years,  and  was  married  to  a  Wy- 
andott  squaw;  he  said  at  that  time  he  lived 
at  Detroit.  He  was  recognized  by  several  in 
camp,  and  two  men  said,  "  when  Detroit  was 
taken,  under  General  Hull,  he  was  painted 
like  an  Indian,  and  was  seen  out  of  the  fort," 
but  they  did  not  recollect  any  act  of  hostility 
on  his  part.  His  story  was,  that  he  persuaded 
the  Indians  to  abandon  the  British ;  that  in 
the  end  we  would  ruin  them,  &c.  That  for 
this  he  was  put  into  the  guard-house  at  De- 
troit, and  told  his  conduct  was  criminal,  and 
consequently  would  be  sent  where  he  would 
be  kept  safely ;  that  he  made  his  escape  from 


I 


I   I 


16 


atherton's  narrative* 


the  guard-house — lay  concealed  a  few  day;:?? 
until  he  was  ready-  -and  then  started  to  join 
us.  The  general  belief  was  he  came  as  a 
spy.  He  seemed  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  Indian  movements,  but  the  officers  were 
afraid  to  place  any  reliance  upon  his  state- 
ments. He  gave  us  a  description  of  the  force 
we  met  near  Defiance  on  their  way  to  Fort 
,  Wayne.  He  estimated  their  number  at  about 
nine  hundred  Indians  and  British  altogether, 
with  two  brass  field  pieces;  that  the  after- 
noon on  which  we  crossed  the  Miami,  they 
were  at  Fort  Defiance,  which  was  only  six 
miles  from  where  we  crossed  the  river,  and 
that  they  started  early  next  morning  to- 
wards the  Rapids.  From  him  we  learned 
that  McCoy  of  Georgetown,  whom  we  sup- 
posed was  murdered,  had  been  taken  prison- 
er. Upon  being  asked  if  any  prisoners  had 
been  taken,  he  replied  one — a  Quarter  Mas- 
ter Sergeant.     McCoy  filled  that  place. 

We  now  began  preparations  to  march  to- 
wards  the  Rapids — having  completed  a  new 
and  beautiful  fort,  situated  near  the  old  one, 
which,  like  its  brave  progenitor,  had  fallen 
before  the  irresistible  hand  of  time.  We 
crossed  the  -Miami,  and  camped  a  fev^  miles 
below  Defiance.    During  the  time  of  our  en- 


V 


ATHERTON'S  NASRATlVf:. 


17 


to  join 
i  as  a 
d  with 
3  were 

state- 
3  force 
o  Fort 
;  about 
jether, 

after- 
i,  they 
ily  six 
r,  and 
ig  to- 
arned 
e  sup- 
rison- 
3  had 

Mas- 

;h  to- 
new 
one, 

alien 
We 

miles 
Ur  en- 


campment we  were  called  to  witness  a  very 
solemn  transaction.  A  young  man  was  found 
sleeping  on  post — he  was  arraigned  and  sen- 
tenced to  be  shot.  When  the  time  appointed 
frr  his  execution  arrived,  the  army  was  pa- 
raded— the  prisoner  was  brought  to  the  spot 
— a  bandage  placed  over  his  eyes — and  di- 
rected to  prepare  to  meet  death.  A  platoon 
was  ordered  to  take  their  stand  a  few  paces 
in  front  of  the  lines,  ready  to  fire  when  the 
word  should  be  given.  A  deep  silence  now 
reigned  throughout  the  army — every  eye  was 
fixed  upon  the  criminal,  standing  upon  his 
knees  blindfolded — the  officer  commanding 
the  platoon  waiting  to  hear  and  give  the 
word  which  would  hurry  a  fellow  soldier  in- 
to eternity.  During  this  moment  of  sus- 
pense a  messenger  came  from  the  General 
bearing^a  reprieve.  This  circumstance  made 
a  deep  impression  upon  the  whole  army. 
It  was  found  necessary,  also,  to  make  an  ex- 
ample of  one  who  had  deserted.  His  sen- 
tence was  to  ride  the  wooden  horse ;  which 
was  made  by  bending  a  sapling  until  the 
top  reached  the  ground — this  he  did  in  the 
presence  of  the  whole  army. 
Very  few  Indians  were  seen  or  heard  of 

for  some   weeks,  neither  had  any  mischief 
2* 


I 


!  : 


IS 


atherton's  narrative?. 


been  done,  though  the  men  were  very  care^ 
less,  and  would  hunt  game  and  fruit  far  and 
near — often  strolling  miles  from  the  camp 
without  guns.  The  ground  on  this  side  of 
the  river,  where  we  first  encamped,  being 
disagreeable,  we  marched  a  few  miles  down 
the  river,  remained  a  short  time,  and  then 
removed  to  what  is  called  camp  No,  3* 
There  we  had  a  beautiful  situation,  and  an 
abundance  of  fine  timber. 

Although  the  enemy  had  now  retre?;ted 
and  left  us  in  possession  of  the  Territory,  we 
were  still  called  to  contend  with  the  severe 
weather,  which  not  only  prevented  the  ne- 
cessary supply  of  provisions  from  reaching 
us,  but  in  our  thinly  clad  condition  became 
very  oppressive.  We  knew  that  efforts  were 
making  to  supply  us  with  clothes  and  rations, 
but  the  roads  were  almost  impassable.  About 
the  lirst  of  November  the  men  became  very 
sickly — the  typhus  fever  raged  with  violence 
— three  or  four  would  sometimes  die  in  a  day. 
It  is  said  upwards  of  three  hundred  was  on 
the  sick  list  at  one  time. 

Towards  the  latter  part  of  November,  or 
first  of  December,  the  rain  fell  in  torrents. 
We  were  ordered  to  build  huts,  for  to  ad- 
vance at  that  lime  appeared  impossible,   Ma- 


i 


ATUESTON's   MABUATiVG. 


19 


ny  were  so  entirely  destitute  of  shoes  and 
other  clothing,  that  had  they  been  compelled 
to  march  any  distance  they  must  have  frozen. 
What  we  suffered  at  Defiance  was  but  the  be- 
ginning of  affliction.  We  now  saw  nothing  but 
hunger,  and  cold,  and  nakedness,  staring  us  in 
the  face.  At  one  time,  for  several  days,  we 
scarcely  had  any  thing  to  eat  but  some  poor 
beef.  I  have  seen  the  butfhers  go  to  a  beef 
and  kill  it,  when  lying  down  and  could  not 
get  out  of  the  way.  This  kind  of  beef,  and 
hickory  roots,  was  our  principal  subsistence 
for  a  length  of  time.  When  we  had  been 
here  a  few  weeks,  and  the  ground  became 
covered  with  snow,  and  we  no  longer  appre- 
hended danger  from  the  enemy,  we  were  per- 
mitted to  hunt.  This  we  did  to  some  extent, 
but  in  a  short  time  there  was  not  a  squirrel 
to  be  found  near  the  encampment. 

During  our  stay  at  camp  No.  3,  a  detach- 
ment was  sent  down  the  river  to  assist  Gen- 
eral Tupper.  I  was  one  of  the  number  call- 
ed Jut  for  that  expedition;  and  a  hard  and 
fruitless  one  it  was.  Colonel  Lewis  com- 
manded. We  marched  until  about  nine 
o'clock  at  night.  Colonel  C.  S.  Todd,  with 
some  others,  was  sent  on  to  Tupper's  en- 
campment to  make  some  discoveries,  and 


W' 


Ml 


20 


atherton's  narrative, 


when  they  arrived  at  the  spot  they  found 
that  Tupper  had  retreated,  and  one  of  his 
men  left  dead  in  the  camp!  Th"  'nformation 
was  brought  to  Colonel  Lewis,  d  after  a 
council  with  his  officers,  he  considered  it 
prudent  to  return.  He  thought  if  it  were 
necessary  for  Tupper,  with  six  hundred  and 
fifty  men,  to  retreat,  and  the  river  too  be- 
tween him  and  the  enemy,  he  could  not  be 
justified  in  meeting  it  on  the  same  side  with 
three  hundred  and  eighty.  It  was  stated,  but 
I  would  not  vouch  for  the  truth  of  it,  that  he 
left  the  Rapids  a  few  hours  after  he  sent  the 
express  to  our  camp,  without  notifying  our 
detachment  at  all. 

Early  next  morning  we  commenced  our 
retreat,  but  from  the  fatigues  of  the  previous 
day,  and  want  of  rest  that  night,  (for  we  had 
no  fire,)  the  most  of  us  were  unable  to  reach 
the  army  that  day,  but  were  obliged  to  camp 
about  five  miles  belovsr.  This  was  a  night  of 
keen  suspense  to  myself,  and  no  doubt  many 
others.  We  had  grounds  to  believe  the  In- 
dians would  pursue  us  with  perhaps  double 
our  number,  and  surprise  us  in  the  night;  but 
we  reached  the  camp  in  safety  next  morning. 

Our  Indian  spies  made  frequent  excwrsions 
in  different  directions,  but  their  reports  were 


i!- 


h 


atiieuton's  narrative. 


SI 


not  generally  satisfactory.  Logans  one  of 
the  finest  looking  Indians  I  ever  saw,  was  one 
of  them,  and  perhaps  the  only  honest  man 
among  them,  finding  that  they  were  suspect- 
ed either  of  cowardice  or  treachery,  deter- 
mined on  another  expedition  to  the  Rapids. 
But  before  leaving,  expressed  his  grief  at  the 
stain  cast  upon  his  character — declaring  at 
the  same  time  that  something  should  be  done 
before  his  return  that  should  convince  all 
concerned  of  his  bravery  and  friendship  to 
the  Government  of  the  United  States.  Old 
Captain  John^  and  Lightfoot,  if  I  mistake  not, 
accompanied  him.  They  had  not  reached 
the  Rapids  before  they  fell  in  with  the  spies 
of  the  British — a  company  of  Indians  supe- 
rior to  their  own,  commanded  by  a  young 
British  oflicer  :  they  managed  the  affair  with 
great  dexterity.  Logan,  who  was  a  man  of 
great  presence  of  mind,  finding,  upon  first 
sight  of  the  enemy,  a  retreat  to  be  impracti- 
cable, instantly  proposed  to  his  comrades  to 
approach  them  in  the  character  of  friends,  and 
report  themselves  as  deserters  from  camp 
No.  3.  Though  they  had  but  a  very  few 
moments,  yet  Logan  fixed  upon  the  signal, 
and  concerted  the  plan  of  escape.  •  They 
met — Logan  made  his  statement,  which  was 


22 


atiierton's  narrative. 


received  cautiously,  but  so  far  as  to  prevent 
immediate  hostilities.  They  were  permitted 
to  keep  their  arms,  but  ordered  to  march  in 
front,  a  plain  indication  that  they  were  sus- 
pected. 

As  the  object  of  this  band  of  British  spies 
was  to  gain  information  in  reference  to  the 
army  at  camp  No.  3,  they  considered  their 
object  accomplished,  and  therefore  returned 
from  this  place.  A  conversation  soon  com- 
menced respecting  the  condition,  number,  and 
intentions  of  the  army,  &g.,  &c.,  during 
which  time  hogan  and  his  two  companions 
were  watching  their  opportunity  to  make  the 
attack.  Although  they  doubled  their  num- 
ber, yet  they  determined  to  rescue  themselves 
or  die.  The  signal  was  given,  and  each  man 
brought  his  man  to  the  ground.  This  left 
their  power  about  equal.  The  enemy  fled  a 
little  distance,  and  opened  a  fire  upon  them, 
which  they  returned  with  the  arms  of  those 
they  had  shot;  but  finding  a  retreat  now 
practicable,  Logan  ordered  it,  but  in  mount- 
ing one  of  the  horses  of  the  enemy,  received 
a  ball  in  his  breast  which  ranged  down  to  the 
small  of  his  back;  but,  notwithstanding,  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  the  camp  that  night,  a 
distance  of  about  thirty  miles.    Old  Captain 


atherton's  narrative. 


83 


John  would  not  leave  the  spot  until  he  had 
taken  a  scalp,  which  he  brought  to  camp  with 
him. 

Every  effort  was  made  by  the  physicians 
to  save  the  life  of  this  brave  and  daring  man, 
but  all  in  vain.  I  saw  him  a  few  hours  be- 
fore his  death.  He  died  like  a  soldier.  But 
before  his  death,  was  heard  to  say — "I  sup- 
pose this  will  be  taken  as  evidence  of  my 
bravery,  and  I  shall  be  no  longer  suspected 
as  a  traitor." 

His  death  was  greatly  lamented,  and  his 
loss  severely  felt — and  the  circumstances  ta- 
ken altogether,  rendered  the  case  exceeding- 
ly affecting,  especially  to  some  of  the  offi- 
cers. 

One  of  the  most  extraordinarv  characters 
in  all  the  army,  was  an  old  man  by  the  name 
of  Ruddle,  who  acted  as  a  spy;  this  man 
made  many  excursions  alone,  and  would  re- 
,  main  for  several  days  together,  almost  in  the 
heart  of  the  enemy;  and  perhaps  advanced 
farther  to  discover  the  movements  of  the 
British  and  Indians,  than  even  our  Indian 
spies.  During  the  stay  at  camp  No.  3,  the 
most  of  the  information  that  could  be  relied 
upon,  respecting  the  supplies  which  it  was 
expected  we  should  find  in  the  fields  at  the 


/.'/A). 


■ 


) 


t 


24 


atherton's  narkative. 


Rapids,  came  through  Ruddle.  Such  daunt- 
less courage  is  not  often  found.  To  look  at 
him  you  would  think  him  touched  off  a  little 
with  the  Potawatamie,  He  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  Indian  mode  of  warfare; 
and,  if  I  mistake  not,  had  once  been  a  pris- 
oner among  them. 

Soon  after  this  the  river  was  frozen  so  as 
to  bear  us  across.  This  enlarged  our  hunt- 
ing ground,  for  now  we  were  suffering  great- 
ly for  provisions.  At  one  time,  for  eleven 
days,  we  had  nothing  but  pork,  just  killed, 
without  salt.  These  privationr  were  submit- 
ted to  with  astonishing  patience — there  was 
scarcely  a  whisper  or  a  murmur  in  all  the 
camp — which  manifested  a  patriotism  wor- 
thy the  cause  in  which  they  were  engaged. 

On  the  22d  of  December  we  were  inform- 
ed, by  general  order,  that  we  should  have 
flour  that  day,  and  that  the  prospect  was  fair 
for  a  constant  supply. 

The  24th  was  the  period  set  for  our  stay 
at  camp  No.  3,  which  w^as  pleasing  intelli- 
gence to  the  whole  army.  On  the  25th,  at 
sunrise,  we  were  commanded  to  march  to 
the  Rapids.  Being  the  vanguard  of  the 
North- Western  Army,  General  Harrison  in- 
structed us  to  make  a  stand  there  until  we 


\MM. 


atherton's  narrative. 


25 


1  daunt- 
I  look  at 
F  a  little 
veil  ac- 
.varfare ; 
1  a  pria- 

;en  so  as 
ur  hunt- 
g  great- 
c  eleven 
3t  killed, 
I  submit- 
lere  was 

all  the 
sm  wor- 
gaged. 

inform- 
ild  have 
was  fair 

our  stay 
J  intelli- 
25th,  at 
larch  to 
of  the 
rison  in- 
until  we 


should  be  joined  by  the  North-Western  Ar- 
my. For  some  time  previous  we  had  been 
engaged  in  making  sleds  to  haul  our  baggage, 
some  of  which  had  to  be  drawn  by  the  sol- 
diers themselves. 

A  more  pleasant  and  expeditious  march 
than  this  had  been  anticipated,  for  after 
much  fatigue  and  labor,  a  great  number  of 
canoes  had  been  made,  with  which  we  ex- 
pected our  baggage  would  be  taken  with 
great  ease  and  safety  down  the  river;  but  to 
our  great  disappointment,  before  we  could 
make  preparations,  or  before  our  provisions 
reached  us — without  which  we  could  not 
move — cold  weather  set  in,  and  closed  up  the 
river.  This  circumstance  at  first  seemed  to 
present  an  obstacle  insurmountable;  many 
of  the  men  were  sick,  and  that  sickness  oc- 
casioned by  being  compelled  to  eat  fresh  pork 
without  bread  or  salt,  and  from  being  ex- 
posed to  cold  and  wet. 

But  this  was  not  the  only  difficulty.  Ma- 
ny who  had  not  been  so  provident,  perhaps, 
as  the  case  required,  were  bare  of  clothes, 
and  almost  barefooted,  and  [were  ill  pre- 
pared to  undertake  such  a  march  through 
the  snovir. 

Thus,  ill  clad,  worn  down  by  fatigue  and 
3 


26 


atherton's  narrative. 


! 


starvation,  and  chilled  by  the  cold  wintry 
blasts  of  the  north  we  were  compelled  to 
brave — there  was  no  alternative — our  condi- 
tion ma4e  it  necessary  for  us  to  fall  upon 
some  other  plan  to  reach  the  Rapids,  where 
we  expected  to  meet  supplies.  Under  the 
impulse  of  this  hope  we  went  to  work  and 
made  sleds  sufficient  to  carry  the  baggage. 
But  as  these  were  not  sufficient  to  take  the 
sick,  many  of  them  had  to  be  left  behind. 
On  the  25th,  as  above  stated,  we  bid  adieu  to 
this  memorable  < place,  camp  No.  3,  where 
lie  the  bones  of  many  a  brave  man.  This 
place  will  live  in  the  recollection  of  all  who 
suffered  there,  and  for  more  reasons  than  one. 
There  comes  up  before  the  mind  the  many 
times  the  dead  march  was  heard  in  the  camp, 
and  the  solemn  processsion  that  carried  our 
fellow  sufferers  to  the  grave — the  many  times 
we  were  almost  on  the  point  of  starvation — 
and  the  many  sickening  disappointments 
which  were  experienced  by  the  army  from 
day  to  day,  and  from  week  to  week,  by  the 
failure  of  promised  supplies,  which  were  dai- 
ly expected :  and,  also,  that  here  we  parted 
with  the  sick,  some  of  whom  we  were  to  see 
no  more. 
Thus  poorly  equipped,  deeply  affected,  and 


atherton's  narrative. 


37 


yet  or :i joyed,  we  took  up  the  line  of  march. 
The  reader  may  ask  how  such  a  number  of 
sleds  could  be  drawn,  seeing  there  was  not  a 
supply  of  horses.  Some  of  them  were  drawn 
by  the  men  themselves — five  men  were  hitch- 
ed to  a  sleigh,  and,  through  snow  and  water, 
dragged  them  on  at  the  rate  of  about  ten 
miles  a  da  v.  But  to  our  great  disadvantage 
during  our  march,  there  was  an  immense  fall 
of  snow.  It  seemed  that  the  very  elements 
fought  against  us.  But  notwithstanding  all, 
we  moved  slowly  on  towards  the  destined 
point.  What  the  men  suffered  by  day,  was 
comparatively  nothing  to  what  they  experi- 
enced by  night.  The  reader  can  form  but  a 
faint  idea  unless  he  had  been  on  the  spot,  and 
had  seen  and  felt  what  we  saw  and  felt. 
Some  time  was  required  to  arrange  the  en- 
campment, during  which  time  the  men  were 
compelled  to  keep  their  places  in  the  lines, 
arid  thus  become  so  chilled  as  to  be  almost 
unfit  for  the  necessary  exertion  of  preparing 
a  resting  place  for  themselves.  The  snow, 
which  was  about  knee  deep,  had  first  to  be 
cleared  away,  then  fire  to  be  struck  with  flint 
and  steel,  and  when  no  lynn  bark  could  be 
had,  brush  was  substituted  in  its  place,  which 
formed  our  bed.    Hard  and  uncomfortable  as 


i.. 


28 


atherton's  narrative. 


it  was,  yet  such  was  our  fatigue  that  we  gen- 
erally slept  soundly.  To  give  a  detailed  ac- 
count of  individual  suffering  during  this 
march,  from  camp  No.  3  to  the  Rapids, 
would  swell  this  sketch  beyond  its  intended 
limits;  and  perhaps  facts  would  be  related 
which  the  present  generation,  who  have  but 
little  knowledge  of  these  things  only  from 
report,  would  scjircely  believe. 

Our  little  vehicles  being  made  upon  a  small 
scale,  were  too  light  to  carry  the  burden  put 
upon  them,  and  not  sufficiently  high  to  cross 
the  little  streams  which  lay  in  our  v/ay,  con- 
sequently much  damage  was  done  to  our  bag- 
gage, and  our  provisions  (which  were  barely 
sufficient  to  last  us  to  the  Rapids,)  was  much 
injured  by  getting  wet.  This,  it  will  be  plain- 
ly seen,  was  well  calculated  to  increase  our 
sufferings.  In  fact,  the  half  of  what  was  en- 
dured on  this  slow  and  painful  march  has 
never  yet  been  published  to  the  world,  and 
perhaps  never  will. 

"  While  on  our  march.  General  Winches- 
ter received  another  despatch  from  the  com- 
ma^.der-in-chief,  recommending  him  to  aban- 
don the  movement  towards  the  Rapids,  and 
fall  back  with  the  greater  part  of  his  force  to 
Fort  Jennings.    This  advice  was  given  in 


X^itEiti'ON^s  NaMative. 


29 


consequence  of  some  inlelligence  received 
from  Colonel  Campbell,  at  Massiniway,  res* 
pecting  the  force  of  Tecumseh  on  the  Wa* 
bash.  General  Harrison  was  apprehensive  if 
the  left  wing  advanced  so  far  as  the  Rapids, 
Tecumseh  would  be  able  to  attack  and  des- 
troy all  the  provisions  in  the  rear."  Win- 
chester had  already  commenced  his  march,' 
and  did  not  wish  to  discontinue  and  return. 

At  length,  on  the  10th  of  January,  we  ar- 
rived at  the  Rapidsi  General  Winchester 
had  previously  sent  forward  a  detachment  of 
six  hundred  and  seventy  men,  under  Generial 
Payne,  to  attack  a  body  df  Indians  which 
General  Harrison  had  been  informed  was  ly- 
ing in  an  old  fortification  at  Swan  creek,  a 
few  miles  farther  down  the  river.  After  pass- 
ing several  miles  below  the  old  fort,  and  dis- 
covering no  appearance  of  Indians,  the  whole 
returned  to  the  position  which  the  army  in- 
tended to  occupy. 

About  this  time   the  clothes  which  were 

sent  by  the  patriotic  sons  and  daughters  of 

Kentucky,  began   to  reach  the  army.     The 

gratitude  of  the  troops  generally  was  beyond 

expression.    Some  had  withstood  the  keen 

blasts  of  that  cold  northern  countrv,  until 

some  time  in  January^  with  linen  hunting 
3* 


m 


\a 


39 


ATHERTON*S    iVARftATlVfi. 


shirts  and  pantaloons,  and  many  almost  with^ 
out  either  shoes  or  socks.  Genera)  Payne  in 
a  letter  to  Governor  Shelby,  in  which  he  ex- 
presses his  gratitude,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
troops,  says^"  As  an  earnest  of  her  disposi- 
tion to  aid  the  National  Government,  Ken-* 
tucky,  at  an  early  period,  with  a  character- 
istic ardour,  sent  forth  more  than  her  quota 
required  by  the  Government;  and  whilst  a 
spark  of  genuine  feeling  animates  the  breasts 
of  hepvolunteers  in  the  North- Western  Ar- 
•my,  they  can  never  cease  to  feel  a  lively 
gratitude  for  the  further  earnest  of  her  anxie- 
ty for  the  cause,  manifested  in  the  late  abun- 
dant supply  of  clothing."  It  certainly  was 
a  source  of  heartfelt  satisfaction,  to  express 
a  proper  sense  of  the  obligations  under  which 
the  patriotism  of  the  sons  of  Kentucky  had 
placed  her  volunteers;  but  the  pleasure  was 
greatly  heightened  when  we  reflected  that  to 
the  daughters  of  Kentucky  we  were  mostly 
indebted  for  imperious  supplies  to  meet  the 
blasts  of  a  northern  winter. 

I  hope  it  is  not  still  too  late  (though  many 
who  engaged  in  that  laudable  work  have 
gone  from  this  scene  of  war  and  bloodshed,) 
for  me  to  express  my  unfeigned  gratitude  to 
the  daughters  of  my  native  State  for  the 


ATHERTON*S   r^ARRATIVE. 


»I 


blessings  bestowed  on  me  as  an  individual ; 
and  as  I  have  never  had  an  opportunity  be- 
fore to  express  myself,  nermit  me  further  to 
say,  that  these  favors,  while  I  possess  a  spark 
of  feeling,  shall  never  cease  to  produce  a  live- 
ly sense  of  gratitude.  Help,  in  real  need,  is 
not  forgotten. 

"On  the  day  of  our  arrival  a  recent 
Indian  camp  was  discovered  about  one  hal?f 
mile  from  us.  Captain  Williams  was  im- 
mediately despatched^  with  twenty  five  men, 
to  pursue  the  Indians*  He  very  soon  over- 
took and  routed  them.  A  few  shots  were  ex- 
changed, by  which  some  on  both  sides  were 
wounded." 

A  large  storehouse  was  immediately  com- 
menced for  the  purpose  of  securing  the  pro- 
visions and  baggage.  We  found  a  quantity 
of  corn  in  the  fields,  which  was  soon  gather- 
ed ;  and  before  any  machinery  was  prepared 
to  pound  and  sift  it,  a  quantity  was  boiled 
whole,  and  eaten  without  even  salt.  But  we 
(juickiy  arranged  to  have  it  made  into  hom- 
mony,and  after  the  hogs  came,  we  fared  well 
upon  "  hog  and  hommony."  You  may  judge 
of  our  relish  for  our  food,  when  I  tell  you 
that  one  of  our  company,  whose  name  I  will 
not  give,  eat  so  much  corn  that  he  appeared 


M 


ATIIERTON's   NARRATlVfi. 


to  be  actually  foundered,  and  unable  to  Walk 
for  more  thsln  a  week. 

On  the  evening  df  the  thirteenth,  two 
Frenchmen  avrived  from  the  river  Raisin 
with  information  that  the  Indians  routed  by 
Captain  Williams  had  passed  that  place  on 
their  way  to  Maiden,  carrying  with  them  in^ 
telligence  of  our  advance^  They  said  the 
Indians  had  threatened  to  kill  their  inhabit- 
ants and  burn  their  town,  and  begged  for 
protection  from  the  American  arms*  They 
were  charged  with  a  despatch  from  Mr.  Day, 
a  citizen  who  was  friendly  to  our  cause,  and 
who  stated  that  the  British  were  seizing  all 
suspected  persons  at  the  river  "Raisin,"  and 
confining  them  at  Maiden  prison,  and  were 
preparing  to  carry  off  all  provisions  of  every 
description.  On  the  fourteenth  another  mes- 
senger arrived)  and  on  the  sixteenth  two 
more  came  in.  They  all  confirmed  the  news 
brought  by  the  first,  and  solicited  protection, 
as  they  were  afraid  the  people  would  be  mas- 
sacred and  the  town  burned  by  the  Indians 
whenever  our  army  should  advance  upon 
them.  They  stated  the  present  force  of  the 
enemy  to  be  two  companies  of  Canadians, 
and  about  two  hundred  Indians,  but  that 
more  Indians  might  be  expected  to  assemble* 


ATIIERTON'S  NARRATIVE. 


33 


The  greatest  anxiety  now  prevailed  in  our 
army  to  advance  in  force  sufficient  to  defeat 
the  enemy  at  that  place.  A  council  of  offi- 
cers was  called  by  the  General,  a  majority  of 
whom  were  decidedly  in  favor  of  sending  a 
strong  detachment — Colonel  Allen  supported 
that  side  of  the  question  with  ardour. 

On  the  morning  of  the  seventeenth,  Colo- 
nel Lewis,  with  five  hundred  and  fifty  men, 
took  up  their  line  of  march  for  the  "river 
Raisin."  The  same  day  Colonel  Allen  fol- 
lowed with  one  hundred  and  ten  more,  who 
came  up  with  Lewis  late  in  the  evening, 
where  he  was  encamped  at  Presque  Isle. 
Early  on  the  ^orning  of  the  same  day  Gen- 
eral Winchester  prepared  a  despatch  to  in- 
form General  Harrison  of  this  movement. 
He  stated  that  his  principal  object  was  to 
prevent  the  flour  and  grain  from  being  car- 
ried off  by  the  enemy;  that  if  he  got  posses- 
sion of  Frenchtown  he  intended  to  hold  it, 
and  that  a  co-operating  reinforcement  from 
the  right  wing  might  be  necessary.  ^ 

Before  the  express  had  started  with  this 
letter,  information  was  received  from  Colonel 
Lewis  at  Presque  Isle,  a  distance  of  twenty 
miles  in  advance,  that  there  were  four  hun- 
dred Indians  at  the  river  Raisin,  and  that 


M 


I 


mi 


34 


atiierton's  narrative. 


i'iui 


I  ' 


Colonel  Elliott  was  expected  from  Maldeiir 
with  a  detachment  to  attack  the  camp  at 
the  Rapids.  Colonel  Lewis  set  out  very  ear- 
ly next  morning,  intending,  if  possible^  to  an- 
ticipate Colonel  Elliott  at  Frenchtown.  That 
village  lies  midway  between  Presque  Isle  and 
Maiden,  the  distance  to  each  being  eighteen 
miles.  The  most  of  our  march  was  on  the  ice 
on  Miami  bay,  and  the  borders  of  lake  Erie. 
When  we  had  arrived  within  a  few  miles  of 
the  river  Raisin  we  were  discovered  by 
some  Indians,  who  hastened  to  give  the  alarm 
to  the  main  body  of  the  enemy.  Before  we 
left  the  border  of  the  lake,  a  halt  was  called 
to  take  some  refreshment.  Having  resumed 
our  march,  a  piece  of  timbered  land  was 
passed  through,  and  as  the  troops  proceeded 
in  the  open  plain  they  were  formed  into 
three  lines,  each  corps  being  in  the  proper 
place  for  p-^tion.  The  right  was  commanded 
by  Colonel  Allen,  and  was  composed  of  the 
companies  of  Captains  McCracken,  Bledsoe, 
and  Matson.  I  was  in  Captain  Bledsoe's 
company  during  this  expedition.  The  left 
wing  was  commanded  by  Major  Graves,  and 
was  composed  of  the  companies  of  Ham- 
ilton, Williams,  and  Kelly.  The  centre  con- 
sisted of  the  companies  of  Hightower,  Col- 


11  Maiden, 

3  camp  at 

It  very  ear- 

sible,  to  an- 

own.  That 

ue  Isle  and 

g  eighteen 

s  on  the  ice 

lake  Erie. 

3W  miles  of 

)vered    by 

e  the  alarm 

Before  we 

was  .called 

ig  resumed 

land  was 

proceeded 

>rmed  into 

the  proper 

ommanded 

ised  of  the 

Bledsoe, 

Bledsoe's 

The  left 

Graves,  and 

of  Ham- 

lentre  con- 

>wer,  Col- 


atherton's  narrative. 


35 


lier,  and  Sabree,  and  was  commanded  by 
Major  Madison.  The  advance  guard  con- 
sisted of  the  companies  of  Captains  Hickman, 
Graves,  and  Jones,  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Ballard,  acting  as  Major. 

When  we  arrived  within  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  of  the  village,  and  discovered  the  enemy 
in  motion,  the  line  of  battle  was  formed — ex- 
pecting an  immediate  attack — but  it  was  soon 
perceived  the  enemy  did  not  intend  to  risk  a 
combat  in  the  open  field.  The  detachment 
broke  off  by  the  right  of  companies  and 
marched  under  the  fire  of  the  enemy's  can- 
non until  we  arrived  on  the  river.  We  suc- 
ceeded well  111  crossing,  though  the  ice  in  ma- 
ny places  was  very  slippery.  Having  cross- 
ed, instantly  the  long  roll  was  beat  (the  sig- 
nal for  a  general  charge.)  Majors  Graves  and 
Madison  were  ordered  to  possess  themselves 
of  the  houses  and  picketing,  about  which  the 
enemy  had  collected,  and  where  they  had 
placed  their  rannon.  This  order  was  prompt- 
ly 'executed,  and  both  battalions  advanced 
under  an  incessant  shower  of  bullets;  neither 
the  picketing  nor  fencing  over  which  they 
passed  retarded  their  progress  or  success,  for 
the  enemy  in  that  quarter  was  dislodged. — 
Meantime,  Colonel  Allen  fell  in  with  them 


^  i' 

1 

(I  „.,, 


II 


i 


m\ 


ii'4 


36 


atherton's  narbative. 


#:. 


a  considerable  distance  to  the  right,  when,  af- 
ter pursuing  them  to  the  woods,  they  made 
a  stand  with  their  howitzer  and  strall  arms, 
covered  by  a  chain  of  inclosed  lots  and  a 
group  of  houses,  having  in  their  rear  a  thick 
brushy  wood  filled  with  fallen  timber.    Or- 
ders were  now  given  through  Major  Garrard 
to  Majors  Graves  and  Madison  to  possess 
themselves  of  the  woods  on  the  left,  and 
move  up  towards  the  main  body  of  the  ene- 
my as  fast  as  practicable,  and  divert  their  at- 
tention from  Colonel  Allen.     At  the  moment 
the  fire  commenced  with  the  battalions,  the 
right  wing  advanced,  and  the  enemy  was 
soon  driven  from  the  fencing  an(J,|iouses,  and 
our  troops  began  to  enter  the  woods  in  close 
pursuit.    The  fight  now  became  very  close, 
and  extrettiely  hot  on  the  right  wing — the 
enemy  concentrating  the  chief  of  their  forces 
of  both  kinds  to  force  the  lines,  but  still  kept 
moving  in  a  retreat,  although  slowly,  for  we 
were  much  exhausted.    The  joint  exertions 
of  Graves,  Madison,  and  Allen,  were  suc- 
cessful in  completely  routing  the  enemy.  The 
distance  they  retreated  before  us  was  not  less 
than  two  miles,  and  every  foot  of  the  way 
under  charge.    The  battle  lasted  from  three 
o'clock  until  dark!     The  detachment  was 


\ 


atiierton's  narrative. 


37 


then  drawn  off  in  good  order,  and  encamped 
upon  the  ground  the  enemy  first  occupied. 
About  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  I  received 
a  wound  in  my  right  shoulder.  A  momeat 
before  I  received  the  shot,  I  axw  John  Locke 
and  Joseph  Simpson  advancing  together, 
some  distance  to  the  left,  and  ahead  of  the 
main  body.  One  was  killed  and  the  other 
wounded  not  far  from  the  spot  where  I  last  saw 
them. 

"The  gallant  conduct,"  says  Colonel  Lew- 
is, "of  Colonel  Allen  during  every  charge  of 
this  warmly  contested  action,  has  raised  for 
him  no  ordinary  military  merit.  Majors 
Graves  and  Madison  deserve  high  praise  for 
their  undeviating  attention  to  orders,  and  the 
energy  and  despatch  with  which  they  execu- 
ted them.  Captain  Blan  B.  Ballard  also  led 
the  van  with  great  skill  and  bravery."  He 
further  says:  "I  take  this  opportunity  of  ten- 
dering my  most  hearty  thanks  to  Brigade 
Major  Garrard,  Captain  Smith,  and  Adjutant 
McCuller,  who  acted  as  my  aids,  for  the  great 
support  they  gave  me  during  the  whole  of 
the  action.  The  company  officers  acted  with 
great  bravery."  The  Colonel  closes  by  say- 
ing, "both  officers  and  soldiers  supported  the 


38 


ATIIERTON'S   NARRATIVE. 


double  character  of  Americans  and  Kentuck- 


» 


i-   ■ 


lans. 

It  was  impossible  for  us  to  ascertain  the 
exact  force  of  the  enemy;  but  from  the  best 
information,  there  were  about  one  hundred 
British  and  four  hundred  Indians.  It  was 
said  Major  Reynolds  was  present  and  com- 
manded the  whole.  Their  number  killed  we 
could  not  ascertain,  and  perhaps  it  is  un- 
known to  the  Americans  until  the  present 
time.  From  the  number  found  on  the  field 
where  the  battle  commenced,  and  from  the 
blood  and  trails  where  they  had  dragged  off 
their  dead  and  wounded,  the  slaughter  must 
have  been  considerable.  One  Indian  and  two 
Canadian  militia  were  taken  prisoners.  So 
steady  and  composed  were  our  men  in  the 
assaults,  that  while  the  enemy  were  killed  or 
driven  from  their  houses,  not  a  woman  or 
child  was  injured.  Our  loss  was  twelve  kill- 
ed and  fifty  five  wounded.  Joseph  Simpson 
was  the  only  man  belonging  to  Captain  Simp- 
son's company  that  was  killed  in  the  first  en- 
gagement. Very  few  of  our  men  were  kil- 
led or  wounded  until  we  reached  the  woods; 
here  we  fought  under  great  disadvantages, 
not  being  acquainted  with  the  ground,  and 
mo^t  of  us  being  unacquainted  with  the  Indian 


athbrton's  narrative. 


39 


mode  of  warfare.  Thus  our  want  of  expe- 
rienOe  and  eagerness  to  overtake  the  enemy, 
gave  them  a  decided  advantage  over  us. 
Their  method  was  to  retreat  rapidly  until 
they  were  out  of  sight,  (which  was  soon  the 
case  in  the  brushy  woods,)  and  while  we 
were  advancing  they  were  preparing  to  give 
us  another  fire;  so  we  were  generally  under 
the  necessity  of  firing  upon  them  as  they  were 
retreating.  During  the  chai*e,  I  saw  sever- 
al of  our  brave  boys  lying  upon  the  snow 
wallowing  in  the  agonies  of  death.  But  none 
could  stop  even  to  help  his  brother,  for  our 
situation  required  the  utmost  exertion  of  ev- 
ery man  as  long  as  he  could  render  any  ser- 
vice. 

It  was  sometime  after  dark  before  we  reach- 
ed the  place  from  v/hich  we  drove  the  ene- 
my, where  we  encamped  for  the  night,  and 
where  we  were  accommodated  with  all  the 
necessaries  of  life,  and  every  attention  which 
our  situation  required.  I  cannot  but  speak  a 
word  in  favor  of  our  physicians;  too  much 
cannot  be  said  in  their  praise  for  the  prompt 
attention  which  they  gave  on  that  occasion. 
Though  it  was  late  before  the  houses  wore 
prepared,  and  other  arrangements  made  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  wounded,  yet  ev- 


'  i 

i  .'If 


It 


'mi 


40 


atherton's  narrative* 


ery  man  had  his  wounds  dressed  before  th» 
surgeons  took  any  rest.  Their  memory  de- 
serves to  be  perpetuated. 

Immediately  after  the  battle  an  express  was 
sent  to  convey  the  news  of  our  success  to- 
General  Winchester,  at  whose  camp  he  ar- 
rived before  daylight;  and  from  that  place 
another  was  sent  to  communicate  the  intelli- 
gence to  Gener-^i  Harrison. 

Colonel  LewS  was  determined,  if  possible^ 
tt)  hold  the  place  until  a  reinforcement  could 
be  sent  on.  We  knew  our  situation  was 
very  critical,  being  only  eighteen  miles  from. 
Maiden;  yet  it  appeared  to  make  scarcely 
any  impression  upon  our  minds,  so  long  had 
we  been  in  the  region  of  the  enemy,  and 
so  much  had  we  suffered  from  cold,  hunger, 
and  fatigue.  Ihe  fare  was  now  so  different 
to  what  we  had;  been  accustomed  since  we 
left  the  settlement  in  Ohio — and  some  of  the 
troops  were  so  much  elated  with  having  driv- 
en the  enemy  from  their  fortifications,  and 
having  taken  possession  of  their  provisions, 
&c. — that  we  almost  seemed  to  forget  that 
we  had  an  enemy  in  the  world. 

On  the  evening  of  the  nineteenth,  General 
Winchester  left  the  Rapids  with  two  hundred 
and  fifty  men,  wjugh  were  all  that  could  h^ 


{ 


atherton's  narrative. 


41 


spared  from  that  post.  He  reached  us,  on 
the  night  of  the  twentieth,  and  encamped  in 
an  open  lot  on  the  right  of  the  former  detach- 
ment. Colonel  Lewis  had  encamped  in  a 
place  where  he  was  defended  by  garden  pick- 
ets, which  were  sufficient  to  defend  from  an 
attack  of  small  arms.  Colonel  Wells  com- 
manded the  reinforcement;  and  to  him  the 
<3^eneral  named,  but  did  not  positively  com- 
mand, a  breast-work  for  the  protection  of  his 
camp.  The  General  himself,  established  his 
quarters  in  a  house  upon  the  south  sidy  of  the 
river,  about  three  hundred  yards  from  the 
camp. 

On  the  21st,  a  place  was  selected  for  the 
whole  detachment  to  encamp,  in  good  order, 
with  a  determination  to  fortify  the  next  day. 

About  sunset  Colonel  solicited  and 

obtained  leave  to,  return  to  the  Rapids.  Gn 
this  day,  certain  information  was  obtained 
that  the  British  were  preparing  for  an  attack, 
and  that  we  might  look  for  it  in  a  very  short 
time.  A  Frenchman  came  from  Maiden 
with  information  that  a  large  force  of  British 
and  Indians — which  he  supposed  would  num- 
ber near  three  thousand — were  about  to 
march  from  that  place  shortly  after  he  left  it. 

But  even  this  was  not  credited,  or  if  believed, 

4* 


42 


atherton's  narrative. 


fc 


i  i 


1 


was  little  regarded  by  many  of  the  troops  P 
The  most  of  the  men  acted  as  though  they 
knew  themselves  to  be  perfectly  secure ;  some 
wandering  about  the  town  until  a  late  hour 
at  night !  For  myself,  I  can  say,  I  felt  little 
dread,  though  I  had  reason  to  belipve  that 
our  situation  was  very  perilous.  I  slept 
soundly  until  awaked  by  the  startling  cry  of 
"to  arms !  to  arms !''  and  the  thundering  of  caiiK 
non  and  roar  of  small  arms,  and  the  more 
terific  yelling  of  savages. 

Major  Madison  and  Colonel  Lewis,  togeth- 
er with  most  of  the  officers,  had  cautioned 
their  men  to  be  on  their  guard,  and  be  pre- 
pared for  an  attack.  Guards,  as  usual,  were 
placed  out;  but  as  it  was  extremely  cold,  no 
picket  guard  was  placed  upon  the  road  by 
which  the  enemy  was  expected  to  advance. 
At  day-break,  on  the  morning  of  the  22nd, 
just  as  the  drum  began  to  beat,  three  guns 
were  fired  by  the  sentinels ;  in  an  instant  the 
man  were  at  their  posts.  The  British  now 
began  to  open  a  heavy  fire  of  cannon  and 
small  arms.  They  appeared  mostly  to  direct 
their  cannon  to  the  house  which  cc*^ti..*ed 
the  ammunition,  and  where  the  wounded  of- 
ficers lay.  Every  circumstance  attending 
this  awful  scene,  conspired  to  make  it  more 


atherton's  narrative. 


43 


a  it  more 


alarming — the  time  and  manner  in  which  it 
was  commenced — for  they  approached  in  the 
dark  with  profound  silence — not  a  breath  was 
heard  until  all  was  ready,  then,  sudden  as  a 
flash  of  powder,  the  bloody  work  began. 

The  first  thing  that  presented  itself  to  my 
sight,  after  awaking  out  of  sleep  and  going 
to  the  window,  was  the  fiery  tail  of  a  bomb- 
shells—and these  came  in  quick  succession. 
Just  at  this  moment,  the  fire  of  small  .arms 
from  both  sides  began.  For  a  considerable 
time  it  was  one  continued  roar.  But  I 
could,  nevertheless,  distinguish  between  the 
enemies  guns  and  our  own.  The  British  re- 
gulars approached  immediately  in  front  of 
Colonel  Lewis'  detachment,  but  did  not  long 
remain  within  the  reach  of  small  arms,  for 
a  well  directed  fire  from  the  pickets  soon  re- 
pulsed them,  with  the  loss  of  a  number  of 
their  soldiers  whom  they  left  upon  the  field. 
They  would  not  have  approached  so  near  if 
they  had  known  precisely  our  situation. 
They  told  me  whilst  I  was  at  Detroit,.that 
they  thought  we  were  encamped  in  the  open 
field  outside  of  the  garden  pickets;  but  as 
soon  as  it  was  light,  and  they  discovered 
their  mistake,  they  retreated.  The  yelling 
of  the  Indians  appeared  to  be  mostly  on4h© 


1  »>; 


4ii 


atherton's  narrative. 


right,  though  some  was  heard  upon  the  left, 
but  none  in  the  centre. 

The  reinforcement  which  had  arrived  with 
General  Winchester,  and  which  was  unpro- 
tected by  any  breastwork,  after  maintaining 
the  conflict  for  a  short  time,  was  overpower- 
ed and  fell  back.  Just  at  this  time  General 
Winchester  came  up  and  ordered  the  retreat- 
ing troops  to  rally  and  form  behind  the  se- 
second  bank  of  the  river,  and  inclining  to- 
ward the  centre,  take  refuge  behind  the  pick- 
eting. These  orders  were  probably  not  heard, 
and  being  hard  pressed  both  by  the  British 
and  Indians  in  front  and  on  their  right  flank, 
they  were  completely  thrown  into  confusion, 
and  retreated  in  disorder  over  the  river.  A 
detachment  which  was  sent  from  the  pickets 
to  reinforce  the  right  wing,  and  a  few  others 
who  supposed  the  whole  army  was  ordered 
to  retreat,  joined  in  its  flight.  Those  brave 
men.  Colonels  Allen  and  Lewis,  both  follow- 
ed, hoping  to  assist  in  rallying  the  troops. 
An  attempt  was  made  to  rally  them  on  the 
south  side  of  the  river,  behind  the  houses  and 
garden  pickets,  but  all  in  vain  ;  the  Indians 
had  taken  possession  of  the  woods  behind 
them,  and  thus  completely  cut  off*  their  re- 
treat, and  no  alternative  now  remained  but  to 


ir--^  V,  ...1, 


atherton's  narrative. 


45 


stand  and  fight  a  superior  force,  which  was 
every  moment  accumulating,  and  which  had 
every  advantage,  or  to  retreat  to  better 
ground.  In  their  dismay  and  confusion  they 
attempted  to  pass  a  narrow  lane — the  Indi- 
ans were  on  i)oth  sides,  and  shot  them  in  ev- 
ery direction.  A  large  party  which  had  gain- 
ed the  woods  on  the  right,  were  surrounded 
and  massacred  without  distinction. 

Captain  Watson,  who  was  an  eye-witness, 
states,  "that  after  crossing  the  river, they  at- 
tempted to  form  and  give  battle,  but  the 
houses  being  in  the  way,  they  failed  in  the 
attempt.  They  then  retreated  through  a 
lane  for  one  hundred  yards,  on  the  sides  of 
which  a  number  of  Indians  were  placed,  who 
injured  them  very  much."  He,  though 
wounded,  joined  in  the  retreat.  He  further 
states  "  that  the  Indians  pursued  on  each  side 
for  about  one  mile,  they  then  fell  back  in  the 
rear."  He  then  saw  Colonel  Lewis  and  re- 
quested him  to  form  the  men  and  make  a 
stand  against  the  Indians  once  more,  as  ma- 
ny of  the  men  were  wounded  and  could  re- 
treat no  farther.  The  attempt  was  made 
without  success,  as  many  were  without  arms. 
He  afterwards  saw  General  Winchester,  and 
begged  of  him  for  God's  sake  to  make  a  stand, 


I 


I  ; 


46 


atherton's  narrative. 


as  the  Indians  were  in  close  pursuit,  and  he 
himself  was  much  exhausted,  and  was  con- 
vinced that  many  more  were  in  the  same 
condition.  The  General  inforraed  him  that 
the  men  could  not  be  rallied. 

After  retreating  about  three  miles  from 
Raisin  they  came  to  m  field,  those  on  foot' 
passed  through,  and  those  on  horseback  rode 
around.  Here  Captain  Watson,  General 
Winchester!  Colonel  Lewis,  Doctor  Ervine 
and  Doctor  Patrick,  were  seen  going  slowly 
forward,  their  horses  much  fatigued,  and  a 
number  of  Indians  pursuing  on  fresh  horses,, 
who  soon  overtook  them. 

Captain  Watson,  seeing  the  Indians  with- 
in one  hundred  yards  of  him,  slipped  through 
a  fence,  pulled  off  his  shoes,  ran  along  the 
fence  in  a  stooping  position  about  sixty  yards, 
and  hid  himself  in  some  high  grass.  The 
Indians  continued  to  pursue  those  who  were 
before..  He  thinks  there  were  not  more  than 
fifty  men  ahead  of  him.  After  the  Indians 
had  passed  by,  the  Captain  moved  to  a  prai- 
rie, where  he  concealed  himself  until  dark, 
and  then  pushed  on  to  the  Rapids,  keeping  the 
road  a  distance  to  the  right. 

Mr.  Newel,  one  of  Captain  Watson's  com- 
pany, concealed  himself  in  a  barn,  near  to. 


atherton's  narrative. 


47 


where  the  Indians  returned.  His  account  is, 
that  they  had  "a  number  of  scalps  tied  to 
their  saddles,  and  a  number  also  of  our  men 
tied."  He  left  the  barn  on  the  23d  at  night 
—lost  his  wav,  and  went  back  to  the  river 
Raisin  in  the  night.  He  was  there  informed 
that  all  who  stood  their  ground  had  been  ta- 
ken prisoners,  and  that  but  few  liad  been  kill- 
ed. It  is  due  to  the  memory  of  Doctor  Da* 
vis  to  notice  a  circumstance  which  was  rela- 
ted by  one  of  the  wounded.  He  stated,  that 
at  the  commencement  of  the  action  he  took 
a  gun  belonging  to  a  com[)anion  of  liis,  also 
wounded,  and  rpoved  forward  to  join  the 
company;  the  Doctor  seeing  him,  said,  "give 
me  the  gun,  your  situation  will  not  allow  you 
to  expose  yourself,"  and  went  himself  into 
the  engagement — showing  his  promptness  in 
every  part  of  duty,  whether  in  dressing  thd 
wounded,  or  in  facing  the  enemy  as  a  private 
soldier.  ^ . 

I  made  inquiry  of  all  the  prisoners  which 
1  could  see,  about  Colonel  Allen  and  Captain 
Simpson,  but  could  hear  nothing  satisfactory. 
I  spent  a  year  in  prison  with  several  men 
who  were  in  the  retreating  party,  and  often 
heard  them  relate  what  they  knew  of  that 
sad  affair;  but  as  they  did  not  belong  to  our 


48 


atiierton's  narrative. 


'V\i 


company,  and  were  not  personally  acquaintw 
ed  with  Colonel  Allen  and  Captain  Simpson, 
and  as  they  were  in  auch  a  state  of  alarm — 
all  around  being  dismay  and  confusion — they 
could  not  particularly  notice  any  person,  but 
directed  their  whole  attention  toward  their 
own  personal  safety.  Perhaps  the  whole 
truth  relating  to  those  brave  men,  who  fell  in 
the  retreating  party,  will  never  be  known. 
It  has  been  related  that  Captain  Simpson  fell 
not  far  from  the  mouth  of  the  lane  through 
which  the  troops  had  just  passed.  It  has 
also  been  stated  of  Colonel  Allen:  "After 
making  several  unsuccessful  efforts  to  rally 
his  men — entreating  them  to  halt,  and  to  sell 
their  lives  as  dearly  as  possible — that  he  had 
retreated  about  two  miles,  until  he  was  ex- 
hausted; he  then  sat  down  upon  a  log  and 
resigned  himself  up  to  his  fate.  An  Indian 
Chief  perceiving  him  to  be  an  officer  of  dis- 
tinction, was  anxious  to  make  him  a  prisoner. 
As  soon  as  he  came  to  the  Colonel,  he  threw 
his  gun  across  his  lap  and  told  him  in  Indian 
to  surrender  and  he  should  be  safe.  Another 
savage  having  advanced  with  a  hostile  ap- 
pearance, Colonel  Allen,  with  one  stroke  of 
his  sword,  laid  him  dead  at  his  feet.    A  third 


xtherton's  narrative. 


40 


Indian  had  the  honor  of  shooting  one  of  the 
iirst  and  bravest  men  of  Kentucky. 

Before  we  leave  the  recreating  party,  it 
may  not  be  out  of  place  to  record  two  cir- 
cumstances which  show  the  estimate  which 
the  Indians  set  upon  bravery,  and  also  how 
they  treat  cowardice.  The  circumstances 
were  rc-ated  to  me  as  follows:  A  young  man 
after  the  Indians  had  taken  him  prisoner,  and 
appeared  inclined  to  save  l»is  life,  showed 
great  alarm,  and  at  length  told  the  Indians 
that  he  would  tell  them  where  they  might 
find  a  great  many  while  men,  and  might  kill 
them  all,  &c  The  Indians  instantly  took 
his  life,  although  until  then  they  had  showed 
no  hostility  toward  him.  The  other  related 
to  the  narrator  himself.  He  stated  that  after 
the  Indians  took  him  prisoner,  they  marched 
him  very  hard,  until  he  became  so  much  ex- 
hausted that  he  was  no  longer  able  to  travel 
as  fast  as  they  wished  him  to  go.  They 
shook  their  tomahawks  at  him,  and  told  him 
that  he  must  march  faster  or  die.  He  was 
starving  and  sick,  but  he  kept  on  as  fast  and 
as  far  as  he  could,  and  when  he  could  go  no 
farther  he  laid  down  upon  the  ground  and 
told  them  to  kill  him.     They  motioned  with 

their  weapons  as  if  they  intended  to  take  his 
5 


i '  ft  i 


50 


ATIIERTON^S    NARHATI^IT. 


life,  but  when  they  saw  his  resolution  tfiey 
became  attached  to  him,  and  aided  him  all 
they  could  to  go  on  the  journey,  and  were 
kind  to  him  as  long  as  lie  remained  with 
them. 

After  the  British  had  withdrawn  their 
forces  from  our  front,  and  the  Indians  had 
mostly  disappeared,  and  the  firing,  save  a  few 
scattering  guns  from  some  scouting  Indians, 
had  ceased,  the  situation  of  the  retreating 
party  became  a  matter  of  anxious  concern 
with  Colonel  Lewis'  detachment,  which  was 
left  within  the  picketing.  Some  were  heard 
to  express  their  fears  that  they  were  general- 
ly cut  off,  because  of  the  firing  heard  in  that 
direction.  During  all  the  time  the  troops 
within  the  pickets  stood  to  their  posts,  and 
now  in  this  critical  moment  fully  sustained 
the  character  of  brave  Kentuckians.  Majors 
Madison  and  Garrardy  when  the  amunition 
grew  short  in  the  catridge  boxes,  Avere  em- 
ployed busily  to  furnish  the  men  with  a  sup- 
ply, carrying  them  around  in  their  pocket 
handkerchiefs  and  strewing  them  upon  the 
ground  at  the  soldiers'  feet,  and  at  the  same 
time  exhorting  them  never  to  think  of  a  sur- 
render. Some  of  our  brave  men  fell  by  a 
party  of  savages  coming  up  under  the  north 


ATHERTOW'S  NARRATIVE. 


51 


bank  of  the  *  river.  From  the  house  con- 
taining the  wounded,  they  were  discovered. 
Infoimalion  was  given  immediately,  and  by 
u  detaclmient  they  were  soon  routed. 

The  firing  now  had  ceased,  except  a  shot 
as  an  Indian  was  seen  passing  about.  The 
men  had  to  keep  a  strict  look  out  to  prevent 
surp;.'ise,  as  the  Indians  were  skulking  about, 
and  no  one  felt  safe  for  a  single  moment. 

After  the  cannon,  which  had  been  placed 
down  the  river  about  two  hundred  yards,  had 
ceased  firing — the  horse  and  driver  which 
supplied  the  ammunition  being  killed — those 
of  us  who  had  received  wounds  in  the  battle 
(myself  among  the  rest,)  p-oceeded  to  take 
our  breakfasts  of  a  little  light  bread.  This 
was  all  that  we  could  now  procure. 

All  the  while  we  were  at  a  loss  to  know 
why  the  British  troops  had  been  withdrawn 
to  the  woods,  and  the  Indians  left  alone  to 
contend  by  themselves;  but  we  afterwards 
learned  that  they  were  waiting  the  return  of 
the  Indians  who  had  pursued  the  retreating 
party.  When  they  returned  they  brought 
General  Winchester  and  Colonel  Lewis  with 
them. 

As  soon  as  General  Proctor,  the  British 
commander,  heard  that  General  Winchester 


.*.,-'- 


52 


ATHERTON'S  NARRATIVir. 


was  taken,  he  basely  determined  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  it,  and  thereby  procure  the  sur- 
render of  all  those  within  the  picketing.  He 
represented  to  the  General  that  nothing  but 
an  immediate  surrender  could  save  the  Amer- 
icans from  an  indiscriminate  Indian  massa- 
cre. Tt  was  not  until  the  ilag  approached , 
borne  by  Major  Overton,  one  of  the  Generals' 
aids,  bringing  orders  from  General  Winches- 
ter to  surrender,  that  we  dreamed  that  the 
General,  or  Colonel  Lewis,  were  prisoners. 
When  this  news  reaches*  the  troops,  that 
General  Winchester  had  surrendered  the 
whole  as  prisoners  to  the  British,  it  was  like 
a  shock  of  lightning  from  one  end  of  the 
lines  to  the  other.  A  number  declared  that 
they  never  would  submit,  let  the  consequen- 
ces be  what  they  might.  But  when  they  - 
fc  md  that  Majors  Madison  and  Garrard  had 
consented  to  obey  the  orders  of  General 
Winchester,  some  of  them,  in  great  rage, 
threw  down  their  guns  with  such  force  as  to 
shiver  the  stocks  from  the  barrels. 

When  the  flag  above  named  was  first  dis- 
covered to  advance,  various  conjectures  were 
entertained  of  the  design.  The  greater  num- 
ber supposed  that  the  enemy  was  tired  of 
the  game  and  wished  to  quit,  and  desired 


a^therton's  narrative. 


53 


permission  to  bury  their  dead,  which  were 
not  few.  There  were  also  many  badly 
wounded.  It  was  plain  to  discover  where 
their  lines  had  been  formed,  by  the  number 
of  killed  and  wounded  still  lying  on  the 
field. 

When  Major  Madison  approached  the  flag, 
Colonel  Proctor,  with  great  haughtiness,  de- 
manded an  immediate  surrender,  or  he  would 
set  the  town  on  fire,  and  that  the  Indians 
should  not  be  restrained  from  committing  an 
indiscriminate  massacre.  Major  Madison  ob- 
served "that  it  had  been  customary  for  the 
Indians  to  massacre  the  wounded  prisoners 
after  a  surrender,"  and  "  that  he  could  not 
agree  to  any  capitulation  which  General 
Winchester  might  direct,  unless  the  safety 
and  protection  of  his  men  were  secured." 
Colonel  Proctor  then  said,"  Sir,  do  you  mean 
to  dictate  for  me?"  "No,"  replied  Madison, 
"I  mean  to  dictate  for  myself — and  we  pre- 
fer to  sell  our  lives  as  dearly  as  possible,  rath- 
er than  be  massacred  in  cold  blood."  Proctor 
then  agreed  to  receive  a  surrender  upon  the 
terms,  that  all  private  property  should  be 
respected — that  sleds  should  be  sent  next 
morning  to  remove  the  sick  and  wounded  to 

Amherstburg — and  that  in  the  mean  time 

5* 


54 


ATHERfOIl^  ISTAR^AtlVll. 


m 


4 


r  % 

'I 


ir 


■I   H 


they  should  be  protected  by  a  guard,  and  th^ 
side  arms  should  be  restored  to  the  officers  at 
Maiden. 

.  But  this  unprincipled  deceiver,  bearing  the 
title  of  General,  suffered  the  savages  to  vio^^ 
late  the  treaty  before  his  own  eyes.  Whilst 
the  men  were  in  parade  to  surrender  their 
arms  in  order,  the  Indians  began  to  tear  up 
the  tents  and  to  plunder  in  every  direction, 
gathering  up  every  thing  in  the  shape  of 
clothing,  and  every  knapsack  which  they 
could  find.  I  could  not  bear  arms  from  my 
wound,  and  whilst  the  men  were  on  parade, 
some  time  before  they  were  marched  off,  I 
was  passing  about  and  noticing  the  move- 
ments and  work  of  the  Indians.  They  wjre 
striving  who  should  get  the  most  plunder.  I 
passed  around  to  the  front  of  the  house  to 
take  a  look  at  the  boys  before  they  left  usf 
they  braved  it  off  as  well  as  might  have  been 
expected.  Some  looked  a  little  dejected-— 
others  joked  and  laughed.  One,  who  had  not 
yet  fallen  into  the  ranks,  was  standing  upon 
a  stile-block,  and  said  to  the  English:  "Well, 
you  have  taken  the  greatest  set  of  game 
cocks  that  ever  came  from  Kentuck."  I 
wish  I  cotild  remember  his  name — he  was^ 
calculated  to  remind  one  of  a  game  cock. 


A.THERT0N'S   NARRATIITE. 


5S 


John  Locke  and  Jesse  Fisher,  of  our  com- 
pany, were  badly  wounded;  and  as  both 
Proctor  and  Elliott  had  promised  to  send 
sleds  for  us  in  the  morning,  and  though  able 
to  walk  myself,  I  resolved  to  risk  it,  and  stay 
snd  assist  those  who  were  not  able  to  help 
themselves.  Captain  Hart,  of  Lexington, 
Kentucky,  expressed  great  anxiety  to  be  ta- 
ken with  the  prisoners  to  Maiden.  His  men 
offered  to  carry  him,  and  were  reluctant  to 
leave  him  behind;  but  Colonel  Elliott,  the 
commander  of  the  Indians,  being  well  ac- 
quainted with  Hart  and  his  family — having 
in  former  life  received  great  fiivors  from  them 
in  Kentucky — assured  him  that  he  need  not 
be  under  the  least  apprehension  of  danger — 
that  the  Indians  would  not  molest  those 
that  were  left — and  that,  upon  the  honor  of 
a  so'idier,  he  would  send  his  own  sleigh  for 
him  on  the  next  morning  and  have  him  con- 
veyed to  Maiden. 

Some  of  the  more  discerning  apprehended 
great  danger  in  being  left,  and  insisted  on  all 
that  could  go  to  do  so.  The  brave  Captain 
Hickman  saw  the  danger,  and  desired  all  that 
could  walk  not  to  remain;  for,  said  he  to 
Mr,  Holton,  (now  Captain  Holton,)  "there 
are  more  of  us  here  now  than  will  ever  get 


-g^l 


56 


atherton's  narrative. 


:ti:  ^/-; 


■  'li  '1?^ 


r>' 


l'"l^ 


away."  This,  from  what  I  could  afterwards 
learn,  was  the  sentiment  entertained  and 
expressed  by  all  the  officers.  But  what  could 
they  do  in  their  wounded  and  defenceless 
condition,  being  no  doubt  doomed  to  death 
by  the  infamous  Proctor  and  Elliott. 

These  brave  officers  and  soldiers,  who  had 
battled  against  the  very  elements  for  months, 
and  had  passed  through  sufferings  almost 
equal  to  death  itself,  lived  through  it  all  only 
to  meet  the  most  horrid  of  all  deaths — of  be- 
ing butchered  in  cold  blood,  and  that  with- 
out having  the  power  or  means  of  defence. 

The  parting  was  a  solemn  one,  and  not  on- 
ly solemn,  but  in  reference  to  most  of  those 
unhappy  victims,  it  was  final.  Many  were 
greatly  affected,  especially  the  friends  of  Hart 
and  Hickman.  But  having  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  a  bloody  and  heartless  tyrant,  this 
brave  "Spartan  band"  were  compelled  to 
submit  to  his  cruel  dictates. 
.  No  time  was  now  to  be  lost — all  eyes 
were  directed  towards  the  Rapids — the  cow- 
ardly Proctor  dreaded  the  approach  of  Gen- 
eral Harrison,  and  therefore  made  all  possi- 
ble speed  to  get  out  of  his  way,  fearing  to 
meet  so  brave  and  experienced  an  officer; 
and  well  he  might,  for  the  sight  of  General 


ATH£RTON's  NAttRATIVIi. 


61 


Harrison  at  that  time  would  have  been  death 
to  the  hopes  and  prospects  of  these  red  and 
white  savages,  while  it  would  have  been  a 
jubilee  to  those  hapless  Kentuckians  who 
were  doomed  to  death. 

After  a  few  formalities  of  delivering  up 
arms,  &c.,  they  were  hurried  off  and  driven 
like  so  many  beasts  to  market,  but  with  much 
less  tenderness  and  kindness  than  a  merciful 
man  would  show  to  his  beast.  After  their 
arrival  at  Maiden,  they  were  crowded  into  a 
pen,  and  there  guardt*-,  witiioui  anything  to 
protect  them  from  the  weather.  Their  bread, 
what  little  they  got,  was  thrown  to  them 
like  throwing  corn  to  swine. 

Though  there  was  a  much  shorter  rout  by 
which  the  prisoners  might  have  been  return- 
ed to  their  own  country,  yet  this  did  not  sat- 
isfy these  wanton  tyrants — nothing  would 
do  but  the  prisoners  must,  in  the  dead  of  win- 
ter, march  on  foot  up  Detroit  river;  thence 
up  the  Thames,  to  Delaware  town;  thence 
across  the  country  to  Burlington  Heights; 
and  from  this  point  to  Fort  Niagara — a  dis- 
tance perhaps  of  five  hundred  miles — when 
the  whole  could  have  been  accomplished  in 
about  two  days*  march,  by  sending  them  back 
to  the  Rapids,  where  they  would  have  fallen 


/ 


58 


atheuton's  narrative. 


m 


MJ 


in  with  Iheir  friends  at  once.  But  no, — no» 
thing  but  the  infliction  of  suffering  would 
satisfy  those  cruel   tyrants. 

These  things  are  but  barely  mentioned, 
that  the  attention  of  the  young  and  rising 
generation  may  bf;  led  to  reflect  upon  them. 
And  that  they  may  have  some  knowledge  of 
what  their  fathers  suflered  in  defence  of  the 
liberties  they  now  so  richly  enjoy. 

After  the  men  were  marched  oft'  every 
thing  was  quiet ;  now  and  then  an  Indian 
Was  seen  straying  about  as  though  seeking 
plunder.  They  did  not  manifest  hostility, 
and  our  fears  began  to  subside,  and  we  hoped 
to  be  conveyed  to  the  army  on  the  next  morn- 
ing. 

Doctors  Todd  and  Bowers  were  left  to  take 
care  of  tlie  wounded.  Major  Reynolds  and 
and  three  interpreters  composed  the  only 
guard  to  protect  the  wounded  from  the  sava- 
ges. We  were  hoping  that  General  Harri- 
son, then  on  his  way  from  the  Rapids,  would 
just  at  that  time  arrive  and  give  us  relief  by 
his  reinforcement.  Major  Reynolds  was  ev- 
idently uneasy  lest  Harrison  should  arrive. 
Some  of  the  Indians  staid  in  town  until  late 
in  the  night..  Major  Reynolds  and  the  in- 
terpreters left  some  time  in  the  night ;  at  least 


atherton's  narrative. 


59 


, — no* 
would 

ioned, 
rising 
them, 
dge  of 
of  the  . 

every 
Indian 
e  eking 
slility, 
hoped 
morn- 

;o  take 
s  and 
only 
)  sava- 
Harri' 
would 
ief  by 
as  ev- 
rrive. 
Mate 
le  in- 
,  least 


they  left  our  house,  and  we  saw  them  no 
more. 

As  night  came  on,  our  fears  began  to  in- 
crease. An  Indian  came  into  the  house  and 
told  us  that  he  thought  there  was  danger  to 
be  feared  from  some  Indians,  which  he  thought 
were  disposed  to  do  mischief.  He  manifest- 
ed some  uneasiness  himself;  perhaps  fearing 
that  some  Indian  might  shoot  into  the  house. 
He  appeared  to  be  well  acquainted  with  the 
affairs  of  the  Indians,  in  general,  and  had 
some  knowledge  of  the  movements  and  de- 
signs of  the  British  and  American  armies — 
which  he  was  not  at. all  backward  in  express- 
ing. He  spoke  the  English  language  fluent- 
ly; and  from  his  manners,  I  would  infer  that 
he  had  spent  much  of  his  life  with  the  white 
population.  His  principal  object  seems  to 
have  been  to  gain  all  the  information  possi- 
ble about  General  Harrison,  and  the  strength 
of  the  Northwestern  army.  It  is  probable, 
however,  that  another  object  of  his  visit  was 
to  find  out  from  us  whether  we  thought  it 
probable  that  General  Harrison  would  ad- 
vance immediately  with  the  main  body  of  his 
army  to  make  an  attack  upon  Maiden.  He 
gained  but  little  information  from  us.  There 
was  but  one  man  of  our  company  thought- 


60 


atherton's  narrative. 


w 


Hi 


less  enough  to  give  any  correct  information, 
whose  name  I  shall  not  mention.  He  told 
us  many  things  about  Tecumseh  and  the  In- 
dians from  the  north  that  were  coming  to 
join  them  in  the  spring.  He  seemed  to  en- 
tertain no  doubt  but  that  they  would,  when 
all  their  forces  were  brought  together,  find  it 
an  easy  matter  to  conquer  all  the  armies  the 
United  States  could  send  to  the  north.  Af- 
ter remaining  in  our  room  about  two  hours, 
he  very  politely  bid  us  good  night,  and  left  us. 

After  the  departure  of  this  Indian  chief, 
(for  I  have  but  little  doubt  but  what  he  was 
among  the  principal  leaders  of  the  Indian 
forces,)  some  conversation  ensued  among  our- 
selves in  reference  to  the  designs  of  this  craf- 
ty and  intelligent  chief. 

There  was,  as  well  as  I  can  recollect,  but 
one  opinion  expressed  on  the  subject ;  and  I 
believe  it  was  the  opinion  of  all,  that  that 
would  be  the  last  night  with  mos;  of  us. 
We  dreaded  an  attack  during  the  night ;  for 
this  Indian,  just  as  he  left,  said  "I  am  afraid 
some  of  the  mischievious  boys  will  do  some 
mischief  before  morning."  After  remaining 
in  this  state  of  suspense  for  more  than  an 
hour,  expecting  every  moment  that  the  sav- 
ages would  come  rushing  upon  us;  but  every 


atherton's  narrative. 


61 


lation, 
[e  told 
he  In- 
ing  to 
to  en- 
when 
find  it 
lies  the 
1.    Af- 
hours, 
left  us. 
L  chief, 
he  was 
Indian 
ng  our- 
is  craf- 

ct,  but 
and  I 

,t  that 

of  us. 

it;  for 

afraid 

some 

aining 

lan  an, 

e  sav- 

every 


thing  becoming  quiet,  we  laid  down  upon  our 
blankets  to  rest:  but  rested  very  little  du- 
ring this  dismal  night.    Dreadful  as  was  the 
night,  the  morning  was  more  fearful.    Just 
as  the  sun  had  risen  upon  us,  and  our  hopes 
began  to  rise;  and  just  as  wo  were  about  to 
eat  the  morsel  of  bread  left  us  by  our  friends 
who  had  been  marched  off  the  day  before, 
that  we  might  be  ready  at  a  moments  warn- 
ing to  leave,  should  the  British  send  sleighs 
for  us,  we  heard  a  noise  in  the  passage,  and 
before  we  had  time  to  think,  the  door  of  our 
room  was  forced  open  by  an  Indian,  who  en- 
tered witlvtomahawk  in  hand,  ready  to  com- 
mence his  bloody  work.      He  was  quickly 
followed  by  others.    Their  first  object  was 
plunder.    They  had  no  sooner  entered  the 
door  of  our  room,  than  they  began,  in  the 
most  cruel  manner,  to  strip  the  blankets  and 
clothes  off  the  wounded  as  they  lay  upon  the 
door.     Fortunately  for  me,  I  was  at  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  room  from  the  door  at 
which  the  Indians  entered,  near  a  door  lead- 
ing into  the  front  room  of  the  house ;  and  find- 
ing there  was  no  time  to  lose,  I  immediately 
passed  out  into  the  front  room,  where  I  met 
one  of  the  most  savage  looking  Indians  I  ever 
beheld.    His  very  appearance  was  enough  to 

6 


62 


atherton's  narrative. 


terrify  the  stoutest  heart.  His  face  painted 
as  black  as  charcoal  could  make  ii,  plainly 
indictive  of  his  deadly  design;  a  bunch  f^' 
long  feathers  fastened  on  his  head,  almost  as 
large  as  a  half  bushel ;  a  large  tomahawk, 
the  instrument  of  death,  in  his  right  hand; 
a  scalping  knife  fastened  to  his  belt.  He  in- 
stanly  seized  me  by  the  collar,  and  led  me  out 
at  the  front  door.  At  first  T  manifested  some 
unwillingness  to  go  with  him.  He  then  spoke 
very  earnestly  in  his  own  language,  and  at 
the  same  time  pulled  me  along  forcibly,  as  if 
to  remove  me  from  the  scene  of  death  with- 
in. He  led  me  through  the  front  gate,  and 
down  the  river  about  one  hundred  yards  to  the 
other  houses,  in  which  were  Captains  Hart, 
Hickman,  and  others.  After  leading  me 
through  the  front  gate,  he  left  me.  Just  at 
this  time.  Captain  Hart  came  out  of  his  room, 
barefooted,  with  nothing  on  but  shirt  and 
drawers.  In  this  condition  he  stood  in  the 
snow  for  some  length  of  time  pleading  for  his 
life.  I  here  met  with  the  chief  who  had 
been  in  our  room  in  the  evening.  Captain 
Hart  understanding  the  designs  of  Proctor 
and  Elliott,  and  knowing  that  the  only  possi- 
ble chance  for  life,  under  the  circumstances, 
was  to  make  somo  arrangement  with  the  In- 
dians.   For  this  purpose  he  sought  an  inter- 


atuerton's  narrative. 


63 


aimed 

)laiply 

ich     ' 

lost  as 

hawk, 

hand  ; 

le  in- 

neout 

[  some 

spoke 

ind  at 

f,  as  if 

with- 

B,  and 

to  the 

Hart, 

g  me 

ust  at 

room, 

t  and 

n  the 

or  his 

had 

ptain 

octor 

Dossi- 

mces, 

le  In- 

nter- 


view  with  this  one,  as  he  seemed  to  be  a  lead- 
er, and  very  intelligent.  They  met  in  the 
front  yard,  near  the  gate,  about  the  time  I 
came  ip. 

I  stood  by  and  heard  the  conversation. 
Captain  Hart's  first  remark,  if  I  mistake  not, 
was,  that  he  was  an  acquaintance  of  Colonel 
Elliott's,  and  that  he  (Elliott)  had  promised 
to  send  his  own  sleigh  for  him.  The  Indian 
replied, "Elliott  has  deceived  you — he  does  not 
intend  to  fulfill  his  promise."  Well,  said  Capt. 
Hart,  "if  you  will  agree  to  take  me,  I  will 
give  you  a  horse,  or  a  hundred  dollars.  You 
shall  have  it  on  our  arrival  at  Maiden,"  The 
Indian  said,  "/  cannot  take  you.^^  "Why?" 
asked  Captain  Hart.  "You  are  too  badly 
wounded,"  said  the  Indian.  Captain  Hart 
then  asked  the  Indian,  what  they  intended 
to  do  with  them?  "Boys,"  said  the  Indian, 
raising  himself  up  into  an  attitude  and  air 
of  consequence  and  insult,  "your  are  all  to  he 
killed,''^  Though  involved  in  the  same  ca- 
lamity myself,  I  could  but  notice  the  calm- 
ness find  composure  with  which  the  brave 
officer  received  the  sentence  of  death.  The 
only  reply  which  I  heard  him  make  was  in 
the  language  of  prayer  to  Almighty  God  to 
susti  in  him  in  this  hour  of  trial.    Feeling 


fr 


\,'\ 


64 


ATIIERTON^S    NARRATIVE. 


that  the  awful  sentence  included  invself  as 
well  as  all  the  rest,  my  heart  seemed  to  sink 
,  within  me,  expecting  every  moment  to  re- 
ceive the  fatal  blow.  Just  at  this  moment 
an  Indian  dragged  Captain  Hickman  out  of 
the  house  by  one  arm,  and  threw  him  down 
near  where  1  stood,  with  his  face  on  the 
snow.  He  was  tomahawked,  but  not  yet 
dead.  He  lay  strangling  in  liis  blood.  From 
this  scene  I  turned  away,  and  walking  round 
the  end  of  the  house,  towards  the  back  yard, 
met  an  Indian  at  the  corner  of  the  house, 
who  took  hold  of  me  and  searched  my  pock- 
ets for  money,  but  finding  none,  passed  on. 
J  then  passed  on  round  the  house,  leaving  the 
main  building  on  my  right,  and  walking  slow- 
ly that  I  might  not  appear  to  have  any  de- 
sign, and  that  I  might  not  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  the  enemy.  I  thought,  possibly,  1 
might  reach  a  small  log  building  which  I  dis- 
covered not  far  from  the  house.  As  there 
was  but  one  small  entrance  into  it,  and  as  it 
appeared  dark  within,  it  seemed  to  present 
the  only  possi!  ^e  refuge;  and  as  there  was  no 
time  to  lose,  and  as  life  and  death  were  de- 
pending, I  determined  to  make  the  attempt  to 
gain  this  place  of  retreat.  But  as  I  was  with- 
in a  few  paces  of  my  hiding  place,  an  Indian 


ATttfiHTON^S   NAl^RATiVE. 


65 


Coming  from  the  opposite  direction  mft)f  me, 
and  taking  hold  of  me,  asked  me  wb^  I  was 
wounded:  I  placed  my  hand  upon ,5%  shoul- 
der.    He  then  felt  of  it,  and  finclyig  that  the 
wound  was  not  bad,  he  took  me'baqk  to  the 
house  where  he  had  dc  posited  his  plunder;  put 
a  blanket  around  me, gave  me  a  hat,  then  took 
me  to  the  back  door  of  the  house  in   which 
the  wounded  lay,  and  gave  me  his  gun  and 
plunder  in  charge.     In  a  moment  every  thing 
seemed  to  wear  a  different  aspect.     I  now^ 
experienced  one  of  those  sudden  transitions 
of  mind  impossible  to  be  either  conceived  or 
expressed,  except  by  those  whose  unhappy 
lot  it  has  been,  to  be  placed  in  like  circum- 
stances.    Until  now,  despair  had  spread  its 
gloomy  mantle  over  me;  but  hope,  that  cheer- 
ing companion,  again  visited  my  sinking  heart, 
and  I  again  saw  a  faint  prospect  that  my  life 
might  be  spared.     Thus  situated,  I  had  time 
to  see  what  was  passing  around  me.     I  had 
command  of  the  way  leading  to  Maiden;  and 
1  saw  but  one  road.     I  remained  in  this  posi- 
tion about  two  hours,  during  which  time  I 
saw  several  pass — I  suppose  all  who  were 
able.     Here  I  saw  a  striking  example  of  the 
estimate  a  man  places  on  life.     I  saw  some  of 

our  own   company — old  acquaintances  who 

6* 


66 


ATHERTON^S   NA&ItATlVfi. 


(•»''■. 


were  SO  badly  wounded  that  they  could  scarce^ 
ly -be  moved  in  their  beds,  understandii  g  that 
'  those  who  could  not  travel  on  foot  to  Maiden 
were  all  to  be  tomahawked,  pass  on  their  way 
to  Maiden,  hobbling  along  on  sticks.  Poor 
fellows,  they  were  soon  overtaken  by  their 
merciless  enemies  and  inhumanly  butchered. 
A  few  moments  after,  being  placed  here  by 
the  Indian  who  claimed  me,  another  Indian 
set  fire  to  the  house.  The  fire  was  built  in 
the  passage  near  the  backdoor  where Istood. 
After  the  fire  had  taken  considerable  hold  of 
the  house,  an  Indian  came  running  down 
stairs  with  a  keg  of  powder  in  his  hand,  with 
the  head  out.  Just  as  he  got  to  the  foot  of 
the  stairs  his  foot  slipped,  and  he  come  very 
near  falling  into  the  fire  with  the  powder. 
Had  the  powder  caught,  both  he  and  1  would 
have  perished. 

The  general  opinion,  I  believe  is,  in  refer- 
ence to  Captain  Hart,  that  an  Indian  engaged 
to  take  him  to  Maiden;  and  that  another  In- 
dian, unwilling  that  he  should  go,  shot  him 
on  the  load.  This  may  be  true,  but  has  al- 
ways appeared  to  me  improbable.  From  the 
position  I  occupied,  having  command  of  the 
way  to  Maiden,  1  believe  I  saw  all  who  pass-' 
ed  in  that  direction,  but  saw  nothing  of  Capw- 


ATHEHTON's   NARRATIVfi. 


67 


icarce- 
2  that 
flalden 
ir  way 

Poor 
'■  their 
;hered. 
ere  by 
Indian 
uilt  in 
[stood, 
bold  of 

down 
I,  with 
foot  of 
6  very 
)wder. 
would 

refer- 
gaged 
ler  In- 
him 
las  al- 
)m  the 
of  the 
)  pass- 
f  Ca|N 


tain  Hart.  Upon  the  whole,  I  am  induced 
to  think  that  Captain  Hart  met  his  fate  in  the 
front  yard  where  I  left  him. 

I  remained  here  until  the  roof  of  the  house 
set  on  fire  had  fallen  in.  I  heard  no  crv 
within,  from  which  I  infered  that  the  wound- 
ed were  killed  before  the  house  was  burnt. 

My  Indian  finally  returned,  bringing  with 
him  one  of  the  United  States'  pack  horses: 
and  placing  his  bundle  of  plunder  on  him, 
gave  me  the  bridle,  making  signs  to  march 
on  towards  Maiden.  I  soon  found  the  bodies 
of  those  poor  hapless  hoys  who  had  made  the 
attempt,  but  were  too  badly  wounded  to  tra- 
vel, massacred,  scalped,  and  stripped.  When 
w^e  reached  the  woods,  we  halted  a  short 
time  by  the  fire.  We  then  went  on  to  Stony 
creek,  where  the  British  had  encamped  the 
night  before  the  battle.  Their  wounded 
were  still  there,  waiting  to  be  conveyed  to 
Maiden. 

Here  the  Indians  made  a  large  fire  of  rails, 
and  gave  the  prisoners  some  bread.  Our 
number  was  eight  or  ten.  As  we  were  eat- 
ing, one  of  the  Indians  deliberately  walked 
up  to  his  prisoner,  a  fine  looking  young  man, 
a  son  of  Dr.  Blythe  of  Lexington,  and  struck 
the  tomahawk  into  his  head*    I  was  looking 


ATHliRTON*S   KARRATlVfi. 

the  young  man  in  the  face  when  he  received 
the  deadly  blow ;  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  sunk 
under  the  first  stroke  of  the  deadly  weapon* 
xVfter  he  had  fallen,  and  received  two  or  three 
strokes  from  the  hand  of  the  Indian,  an  old 
Frenchman  took  the  weapon  out  of  the  hand 
of  the  savage  and  gave  the  dying  man  an-» 
other  stroke  upon  the  head,  which  stilled  him 
in  death.*     This  greatly  alarmed  us.     There 

*Having  marked  the  place  where  this  old  French- 
man lived,  in  order  that  I  might  the  more  readily 
lind  him,  should  I  ever  be  permitted  to  visit  the 
country  again :  and  having  taken  particular  notice 
of  the  house,  I  found  no  difficulty  in  ascertaining  its 
location,  and  even  the  very  habitation  in  which  the 
old  tory  resided. 

After  the  lapse  of  about  eighteen  months,  from  the 
time  I  was  there  a  prisoner  with  the  Indians,  I  was 
there  again  under  General  McArthur,  who  comman- 
ded a  regiment  of  mounted  volunteers — one  battal- 
ion of  which  was  from  Kentucky,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Major  Peter  Dudley. 

Passing  by  this  old  man's  house,  in  company  with 
Eenjamin  Whitaker,  our  Lieutenant,  we  met  this 
man  in  the  street  near  his  own  house;  I  immediate- 
ly recognized  him  as  the  individual  who  had  so  in- 
humanly assisted  in  the  massacre  of  young  Mr. 
Blythe,  at  Stony  creek. 

I  mentioned  the  circumstance  to  Whitaker,  and 
asked  his  advice  in  reference  to  the  course  best  to 
be  pursued;  who  instantly  replied,  *^let  us  takehim.^^ 
I  was  glad  of  the  opportunity,  and  forthwith  ap- 
proached him,  and  the  first  salutation,  as  near  as  I 
can  recollect,  was,  **  Well  sir,  do  you  know  any  thing 
qf  me?^^    His  reply  was,  ''No  sir,  I  know  nothing 


atherton's  narrative. 


69 


appeared  to  be  nothing  in  his  case,  that  we 
could  see,  that  made  it  necessary  for  him  to 

about  you."  "Well  sir,"  said  I,  "I  know  you  very 
well."  He  seemed  at  first  to  be  somewhat  surprised 
at  my  confident  address,  and  looking  on  me  very 
earnestly  seemed  to  express  some  doubts  on  the  sub- 
ject. I,  however,  soon  removed  the  old  man's  doubts, 
by  remarking  to  him,  "You  are  the  man  who  was 
guilty  of  the  cruel  and  inhuman  act  of  assisting  the 
savages  in  killing  one  of  the  prisoners  at  Stony  creek, 
taken  at  Raisin,  January  23,  181.3.  You  are  the 
very  man,  sir,  and  I  saw  you  do  it."  These  words 
come  upon  him,  no  doubt,  very  unexpectedly  ;  and 
being  seconded  by  the  voice  of  conscience  within, 
made  him  tremble.  Ho  discovered  evident  marks 
of  fear,  his  countenance  grew  pale  in  an  instant ; 
and  finding  that  his  very  fear  had  betrayed  him,  he 
did  not  deny  it ;  but  ofi^ered  as  an  excuse  that  the 
Indians  required  it  of  him,  and  that  he  was  afraid  to 
refuse.  This  excuse,  however,  did  not  satisfy  us. 
"We  considered,  that  as  a  citizen  of  Detroit,  he  had 
no  business  with  the  British  army  in  time  of  battle. 
We,  therefore,  took  him,  without  any  further  cere- 
mony about  it,  and  delivered  him  over  to  the  proper 
authorities.  He  was  confined  in  jail  for  eight  or 
ten  days,  and  then  brought  out  for  trial.  I,  of  course, 
was  the  only  evidence  that  appeared  against  him. 
He  plead  the  same  excuse  he  did  when  we  first  ar- 
rested him. 

After  nearly  a  whole  day's  managing  in  the  mat- 
ter, between  the  lawyers  and  the  jury,  and  after 
alarming  the  old  fellow  nearly  to  death,  they  ac- 
quitted him. 

I  soon  found  that  this  circumstance  had  enraged 
the  French  population  against  me — particularly  the 
old  Catholic  French.  I,  therefore,  found  it  neces- 
sary, when  going  alone  up  town,  to  take  my  gun  Vt^ith 
me  well  loaded :  this  I  considered  a  sufficient  pro- 
tection against  any  attack  from  that  quarter. 


I', 


70 


ATHERTON'S   NARRATIVE. 


•'U 


die  and  not  the  rest  of  us.  We  now  expect- 
ed every  moment  to  share  the  same  barbari- 
ty. One  of  our  company,  a  young  man  by 
the  name  of  Jones,  was  so  terified  that  he 
began  to  weep,  and  moved  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  fire,  thinking  that  those  nearest  the 
danger  would  be  the  first  victims.  We  urged 
him  to  be  still,  and  not  to  discover  such  marks 
of  fear,  or  that  he  would  certainly  be  killed. 
The  Indian  who  had  taken  me,  and  claimed 
me  as  his,  was  at  this  time  a  few  steps  from 

us,  adjusting  his  pack;  I  stepped  up  to  him, 
and  asked  him  if  they  were  going  to  kill  us 

all.  He  answered  "?/e5."  I  went  back  to 
the  fire  and  tried  to  eat,  as  well  as  I  could, 
without  an  appetite.  It  was  now  about  two 
o'clock,  P.  M.,  and  having  eaten  but  little  for 
three  days  past,  and  that  day  had  taken  noth- 
ing until  we  arrived  at  Stony  creek;  bat  this 
awful  cold-blooded  butcherv  took  awav  all 
desire  for  food.  I  soon  saw  that  he  did  not 
understand  my  question,  and  I  was  then 
somewhat  relieved.  It  has  been  said,  and 
perhaps  with  due  regard  to  truth,  that  many 
of  the  Indians  engaged  in  this  dreadful  havoc, 
were  under  the  influence  of  rum.  They 
were  supplied  with  it  by  the  British,  and 


atherton's  narrati\e. 


71 


when  under  its  influence  were  more  savage 
than  savages; 

We  now  took  up  our  march  towards  Mai- 
den, leaving  some  of  the  Indians  and  their 
prisoners  behind.  Some  of  them  I  saw  no 
more.  They  may  have  shared  the  same 
fate  at  the  fire  as  the  young  man  above. 
He  was  as  able  to  travel  as  any  of  us,  being 
only  slightly  wounded.  He  had  no  shoes — 
this  may  have  been  the  reason  why  they  did 
not  take  him  on.  We  had  gone  but  a  short 
distance  until  we  came  to  a  number  of  In- 
dians who  were  dancing  the  war  dance 
around  the  fire.  Here  some  of  them  had 
encamped  on  the  night  before  the  battle.  As 
soon  as  we  arrived,  I  saw  that  the  Indians 
were  drunk.  Here  my  fears  were  again 
alarmed — being  in  the  midst  of  a  savage  camp 
— dancing  the  war  dance — the  blood  of  scores 
fresh  upon  them— -and  under  the  influence  of 
strong  drink !  Whilst  my  Indian  kept  sober 
I  had  some  hopes  of  protection.  It  was  not, 
long  however  until  I  saw  him  go  into  the 
dance  and  begin  to  drink.  Now  I  almost 
yielded  myself  up  to  despair.  As  I  stood 
holding  his  horse  with  a  sad  countenance,  he 
came  to  me  and  gave  me  a  roasted  potato. 
He  also  made  some  expression  of  friendship, 


72 


ATHERTON'e   NARRATIVE. 


[ 


which  once  more  tended  to  revive  my  droop- 
ing hopes. 

The  Indians  having  finished  their  dance, 
we  proceeded  towards  Maiden,  and  at  night 
we  encamped  in  the  woods  upon  the  3now. 
We  took  supper  upon  a  piece  cut  from  the 
side  of  a  hog,  boiled  with  the  hair  on,  with- 
out bread  and  without  salt.  It  rained  during 
the  night,  and  our  situation  was  anything 
but  agreeable;  yet  I  felt  thankful  that  it  was 
no  worse. 

Manv  strange  reflections  rolled  across  mv 
mind  during  the  evening.  The  scenes  of  the 
day — such  as  I  had  never  before  witnessed — 
would  occasionally  force  themselves  upon  my 
mind,  the  tendency  of  which  was  to  spread 
a  gloom  upon  every  thing  around  me,  and 
to  heighten  my  fears.  We  were  in  a  dense 
forest,  removed  from  the  sight  of  any  habit- 
ation of  man,  the  snow  about  eighteen  inches 
deep,  the  rain  making  it  still  more  insupport- 
able. 

I  kept  my  eyes  upon  the  Indians,  particu- 
larly the  one  to  whom  I  belonged,  watching 
every  motion,  every  step,  and  expression  of 
his  countenance.  As  the  shades  of  night  be- 
gan to  close  upon  our  gloomy  retreat,  it  seem- 
ed to  shed  a  double  horror  upon  the  scene. 


mmtttm 


.Ju. 


ATHERTOBI'S   NARRATIVE. 


73 


my  droop- 

beir  dance, 
nd  at  night 
the  3now. 
t  from  the 
r  on,  with- 
ned  during 
;  anything 
that  it  was 


across  mv 
jnes  of  the 
itnessed — 
3  upon  my 
to  spread 
me,  and 
I  a  dense 
ny  habit- 
en  inches 
isupport- 

particu- 
ivatching 
ession  of 
night  be- 

it  seem- 
le  scene. 


The  sad  and  heart-chilling  thought  would,  in 
spite  of  all  the  efforts  I  could  make  to  frown 
it  back,  intrude  itself  upon  me,  that  I  had 
been  saved  from  the  massacre  only  to  meet  a 
more  horrid  fate — that  the  fire  they  had  kin- 
dled was  perhaps  to  serve  the  double  purpose 
of  cooking  their  supper  and  roasting  me  to 
death.  Whenever  any  of  the  company  would 
lake  his  tomahawk  in  his  hand,  the  thought 
would  instantly  spring  up,  now  I  am  gone. 

This,  take  it  altogether,  was  among  the 
most  trying  scenes  through  which  I  passed 
during  my  imprisonment;  not  that  I  was  ac- 
tually in  m.ore  danger,  but  taking  all  the  cir- 
cumstances together — the  place,  the  time, 
and  being  separated  from  my  friends  in  suf- 
fering, and  being  thrown  alone,  and  for  the 
first  time  to  be  secluded  from  all  but  a  few 
savages  whose  hands  were  yet  stained  with 
the  blood  of  my  countrymen,  and  not  know- 
ing the  moment  my  own  might  be  shed — 
produced  emotions  extremely  distressing  and 
trying. 

After  we  had  eaten,  the  Indians  began  to 
make  preparations  for  lodging,  by  scraping 
away  the  snow  and  placing  bark  down  upon 
which  to  spread  their  blankets;  they  sus- 
pended a  blanket,  by  means  of  a  few  poles, 

7 


M 

ii 


,  ■Il:i 


74 


atiierton's  narrative. 


so  as  to  keep  the  rain  out  of  our  faces.  Af- 
ter engaging  themselves  in  conversation  for 
some  sime,  which  they  seemed  to  enjoy  ex- 
ceedingly, and  whi'jh  was  occasionally  ac- 
companied with  loud  exultations,  the  propo- 
sition was  made  to  retire  for  the  night.  My 
feelings  now  became  indescribable.  Strange 
as  it  may  appear,  I  was  apprehensive  that  af- 
ter I  fell  asleep  they  woulc'  take  that  oppor- 
tunity to  despatch  me;  I'f^th  of  this  kind 
appeared  \o  me  the  mosi  ^^eac"''!  of  all  oth- 
ers.. With  these  feelings,  by  their  direction 
I  lay  down,  and  knowing  that  they  were 
careful  to  save  all  articles  of  clothing,  I  tied 
up  my  head  in  my  pocket  handkerchief,  hop- 
ing that  this  might  be  some  protection,  be- 
lieving that  they  would  not  tomahawk  me 
without  removing  it,  which  I  supposed  they 
could  not  do  without  awaking  me.  Thus  I 
lay  me  down  by  the  side,  and  under  the  same 
blanket,  with  the  Indian  who  claimed  me, 
with  fearful  apprehensions  that  I  should  ne- 
ver again  see  the  light  of  the  sun.  But  not- 
withstanding the  cold,  the  snow  and  rain,  and 
my  perilous  condition,  such  had  been  the  ex- 
citement of  the  day  that  I  was  completely 
overcome,  and  very  soon  fell  into  a  sound 
sleep,  and  slept  sweetly  until  morning.    The 


,1-"^^?-  ^'jSi^ 


«MIM«nMti«« 


1^ 


atherton's  narrative. 


76 


light  of  the  morning  was  hailed  with  expres- 
sions of  gratitude  to  a  kind  and  merciful 
Providence  which  had  shielded  me  through 
such  a  night.  With  the  return  of  the  day 
I  had  a  return  of  hope  that  I  should  yet  be 
spared. 

Early  next  morning  we  started  on  through 
the  snow,  mud  and  water.  We  had  but  lit- 
tle to  eat,  and  no  opportunity  to  warm  ;  my 
clothing  was  scant,  and  not  sufficient  to  pro- 
tect me  against  the  weathe;.  We  fell  in  with 
several  small  companies  of  Indians,  some  on 
foot  and  others  on  horseback,  none  offering 
any  violence  or  showing  any  hostihty,  but 
all  appearing  anxious  to  look  at  me  and  make 
inquiries.  Occasionally  we  heard  a  gun  on 
the  right  or  left;  but  when  we  got  into  the 
vicinity  of  Maiden  the  firing  was  almost  in- 
cessant— it  seemed  that  the  whole  face  of 
the  country  was  covered  with  Indians,  rejoic- 
ing over  a  vanquished  enemy.  I  again  be- 
gan to  feel  that  my  condition  was  exceeding- 
ly perilous,  and  that  I  was  only  spared  from 
the  tomahawk  at  Raisin,  to  be  led  to  the 
slaughter  at  Maiden.  Though  I  did  not  at 
this  time  fear  so  much  from  the  Indian  that 
claimed  me  as  his,  yet  I  had  much  to  fear 


■> ,' ; 


76 


ATHERTON  S   NARRATIVE. 


from  the  enraged  and  drunken  savages  which 
were  to  be  seen  in  every  direction. 

A  short  time  before  night,  as  we  were  pass- 
ing an  old  house,  a  squaw  came  out  crying, 
and  commenced  beating  me  with  ail  her 
strength.  She  smote  me  on  my  wounded 
shoulder,  and  raised  my  temper.  For  a  short 
tima  I  cared  but  little  whether  I  lived  or  died. 
1  thought  if  this  was  to  be  my  treatment 
whenever  1  met  a  squaw,  that  I  might  as 
well  give  up  at  once  and  die.  This  was, 
however,  my  first  and  last  wliipping  from  a 
female  Indian.  That  night  we  lodged  at  the 
house  of  a  Frenchman,  whose  family  was  ve- 
ry kind.  We  went  forward  again  next  morn- 
ing, and  that  day  we  reached  the  home  of 
this  Indian. 

But  on  our  way,  having  to  pass  the  vicin- 
ity of  Detroit,  the  Indians  called  at  the  house 
of  the  old  Frenchman  who  hud  stained  his 
hands  in  the  blood  of  young  Mr.  Blythe,  at 
Stony  creek — (I  have  since  learned  that  this 
was  the  name  of  the  young  man.)  They 
held  a  long  conversation  which  I  could  not 
understand,  because  they  conversed  in  In- 
dian. The  Frenchman  seemed  to  enter 
heartily  into  the  Spirit  of  rejoicing.  They 
smoked  together,  and   passed  other  Indiaa 


atiiertOn's  narrative. 


77 


compliments,  all  of  which  I  noticed  particu- 
larly; and  not  only  that,  but  marked  the 
place,  and  promised  myself  that  if  opportu- 
nity should  offer,  to  pay  him  for  it. 

From  this  point  we  left  the  main  road, 
leaving  Detroit  to  our  right ;  we  soon  passed 
through  a  large  Indian  camp;  just  as  we 
were  entering,  a  company  came  in  who  had 
been  at  the  battle  at  Raisin,  bringing  in  their 
wounded  in  sleighs;  the  ono  which  1  saw 
appeared  to  be  very  badly  wounded,  and  con- 
trary to  all  Indian  custom,  or  dignity  of  In- 
dian character,  was  heard  to  groan.  But  not- 
withstanding his  extreme  pain,  he  cast  a  most 
savage  look  at  me  as  the  sleigh  passed. 

In  passing  this  camp  many  Indians  came 
to  the  door  of  their  tents  to  look,  particularly 
the  young  squaws.  Under  all  the  circum- 
stances, passing  through  just  as  they  were, 
returning  from  the  bloody  scene  of  Raisin, 
and  also  bringing  in  some  badly,  perhaps  mor- 
tally, wounded,  I  had  fearful  apprehensions — 
I  knew  not  what  moment  an  enraged  savage 
would  take  my  life. 

After  leaving  this  camp— at  which  we  made 
ne  stay — I  felt  greatly  relieved,  believing 
there  was  some  hope  that  we  might  pass  safe- 
ly on  to 'our  place  of  destination.  As  well  as 
7f 


78 


ATHERTONIS   If ARRATIVEi 


1 


tt 


I  recollect,  we  passed  but  very  few  Indians 
after  this ;  but  about  sunset,  when  within  a 
short  distance  of  our  Indian  home,  in  passing 
over  a  pond  on  the  ice,  which  at  that  time 
was  covered  with  snow,  the  horse  slipped  and 
fell,  but  after  some  difficulty  we  succeeded  in 
getting  him  on  his  feet  again,  and  soon  reach- 
ed the  vicinity  of  camp,  which  was  announ- 
ced to  me  by  the  Indian  commencing  the 
war-whoop  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  which 
was  responded  to  by  a  number  of  voices  as 
loud  and  terrible  as  his  own.  All  seemed  to 
understand  it — it  was  the  sound  of  victory. 
As  soon  as  we  approached  near  enough  to  be 
recognized,  every  Indian,  male  and  female, 
were  out — all  eyes  directed  towards  us — and 
every  man  and  boy  shouted  to  the  extent  oi 
their  ability. 

My  feelings  by  this  time — having  recently 
witnessed  so  many  scenes  of  blood,  and  hav- 
ing passed  through  so  many  hair-breadth  es- 
capes myself — had  become  almost  deadened ; 
but  upon  the'  approach  of  this  camp,  amid 
the  shouts  of  savages,  and  not  knowing  for 
what  purpose  I  should  be  brought  there,  un- 
less to  be  a  victim  of  sport  for  them,  Ifelty 
and  this  is  all  that  I  can  say — for  to  express 
what  I  felt,  I  find  to  be  impossible. 


ATnERTON'S  NARRATIVE. 


79 


Here  we   found  the  home  of  his  wife,  and  , 
her  father  and  mother,  who  all  seemed  glad 
to  see  us.     The  old  squaw  took  me   by  the 
hand  and  led  me  into  the  hut,  and  gave  me 
something  to  eat,  which  was  in  place.  I  now 
began  to  feel  that  I  had  friends  in  this  family, 
and    considered    myself    pretty    safe.     We 
spent  about  two  weeks  at  this  place,   a  few 
miles  west  of  Detroit.     A  day  or  two  before 
we  left   this  encampment  the  Indians  deter- 
mined on  having  a  spree.     They  went  to  De- 
troit and   traded   for  a  keg  of  rum.     They 
had  not  been  at  home  long  until  most  of  the 
men  were  drunk.     I  now  again  felt  myself  in 
danger,  for  one  of  them  attempted   to  take 
my  life;  I  escaped  because  he  was  drunk  and 
could  not  get  to  me.     That  night  the  squaws 
hid  me  out  in  the  woods  behind  a  log  in  the 
snow.    They  made   me   a  bed  of  hay,  and 
covered  me  with  their   blankets.     When  I 
awaked  in  the  morning  the  frolic  was  all 
over.    The  Indians  were  lying  about  round 
the  fires  like  hounds  after  a  hard  chase;  the 
whiskey  was  dying  in  them,  and  they  were 
sleepy  and  sick.     The  Indians   now  made 
ready  to  go  out  tc  their  hunting  ground ;  and 
after  a  few  days*  preparation  we  started.  As 
well  as  I  am  able  to  judgej   we   travelled  a 


I  1 


ii! 


;iil 


C.i] 


p}k 


f}' 


80 


ATHERTON*S   NARRATIVE. 


west  course.  We  were  upon  the  road  about 
two  weeks;  our  sufferings  were  great  from 
the  intense  cold,  and  from  hunger;  we  had 
nothing  to  eat  but  what  the  hunters  could 
kill  by  the  way.  I  rendered  what  assistance 
I  could  in  catching  raccoons  and  porcupines, 
for  these  were  our  principal  living  whilst  on 
the  road.  I  suppose  we  travelled  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  before  we  reached  our 
destination.  We  now  began  to  fare  a  little 
better,  though  we  sometimes  still  suffered 
with  hunger — it  was  either  a  feast  or  a  fa- 
mine  with  us.  The  Indians  would  eat  up  all 
ihe  provisions  with  as  much  despatch  as  pos- 
sible, and  let  every  day  provide  for  itself. 
Thus  we  spent  our  time  for  several  weeks. 
Here  I  will  give  an  account  of  a  very  aged 
man  who  I  saw  on  our  way  out  to  this  place. 
There  were  many  families  on  the  way  at  the 
same  time — not  only  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, but  their  young  men.  This  caused  me 
to  think  that  they  did  not  expect  any  mor© 
war  during  the  winter  season.  It  seemed 
that  when  their  actual  services  were  not  ne- 
cessary, they  were  then  left  to  shift  for  them- 
selves. This  was  in  perfect  character  with 
all  the  doings  of  the  British  during  this  war. 
We  had  been  travelling  near  a  week,  and  our 


atherton's  narrative. 


81- 


J 


a- 


hunters  were  so  fortunate  as  now  to  kill  a  deer. 
We  encamped  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  so  as  to 
be  screened  by  it  from  the  keen  northern 
blasts,  and  have  the  benefit  of  the  sun.  Dur- 
ing our  stay  at  this  camp,  the  old  Chief  killed 
another  deer,  which,  with  raccoons  and  por- 
cupines, afforded  us  plenty  of  food.  The  In- 
dians made  an  offering  of  the  oil,  and  part 
of  the  flesh  of  the  deer,  to  the  Great  Spifnt, 
by  burning  it.  This  I  took  to  be  their  thank 
offering  for  their  success  in  finding  a  supply 
of  provisions.  Before  they  left  the  encamp- 
ment they  burned  some  tobacco ;  the  design 
of  this  I  did  not  so  wel.  understand.  Soon 
after  we  began  to  march,  I  saw  the  marks  of 
a  cane  in  the  snow,  and  as  the  Indians  do 
not  use  them,  I  supposed  we  were  overtaking 
some  prisoners.  The  second  day  after  I  saw 
the  cane  tracks,  we  came  up  with  a  company 
of  Indians,  and  here  I  saw  the  old  Indian 
who  had  the  cane.  The  moment  I  saw  him' 
my  attention  was  arrested  by  his  very  grave 
and  ancient  appearance.  His  head  was  whi- 
tened over  with,  I  have  no  doubt,  the  frobld 
of  more  than  one  hundred  winters,  and  still 
he  travelled,  and  kept  pace  with  the  horses 
and  young  men,  from  morning  till  evening. 
This  was  the  most  aged  Indian  which  I  saw 


82 


athbrton'ss  narrative. 


m 


i 


during  my  sojoura  with  them.  Their  old 
men  are  much  more  vigorous  and  free  from 
infirmity  than  ours.  They  walk  erect,  and 
command  great  respect  from  all  the  younger 
— their  counsel  is  heard  with  profound  atten- 
tion and  respect. 

During  the  month  of  March  the  Indians 
sent  to  their  town  for  corn.  We  fared  better 
now,  but  the  corn  did  not  last  long ;  so  we 
were  soon  thrown  back  upon  what  game 
we  could  kill  in  the  forests. 

From  what  I  could  learn,  the  Indians  had 
adopted  me  into  their  family,  in  the  room  of 
a  young  man  who  had  fallen  in  battle.  Soon 
after  we  reached  this,  the  place  of  our  winter 
quarters,  the  father-in-law  of  my  Indian 
dressed  me  up  in  Indian  costume,  made  me  a 
bow  and  arrows,  and  started  me  out  with 
his  bovs  to  learn  to  shoot.  I  was  then  in  the 
twenty  first  year  of  my  age.  This  was  our 
exercise  during  the  cold  weather,  and  afford- 
ed me  much  amusement,  as  I  had  none  with 
whom  I  could  converse.  We  had  many  a 
hunt  through  the  woods  with  our  bows  and 
arrows,  but  I  could  not  learn  to  use  them  to 
much  purpose.  Sometimes  I  was  permitted 
to  have  a  gun,  and  go  on  a  hunting  expedi- 
tion, but  was  always  unsuccessful — I  could 


ATHERTON*S  NARRATIVE. 


83 


kill  no  game.    I  once  saw  the  Indians  pro- 
ceed to  kill  a  bear  which  had  holed  himself 
up  for  the  winter.    The  scratches  upon  the 
bark  was  the  sign.    They  then  surrounded 
the  tree,  and  all  being  ready,  they  gave  a 
loud  yell;  the  bear  appeared,  we  all  fired  in- 
stantly, and  among  hands   the   bear  came 
tumbling  down.     Soon  after  this,  our  old 
Chief  killed  a  very  large  bear — one  of  un- 
common size  even  in  that  country,  where 
they  were  large  and  plenty.     He  brought 
home  a  part  of  it,  and  on  the  next  day  sent 
out  three  of  his  sons,  an  old  man  who  lived 
in  the  family,  and  myself,  to  bring  in  the  re- 
mainder.    The  snow  was  deep,  and  we  had 
to  travel  three  or  four  miles  to  the  place. 
We  took  our  loads  and  started  to  camp.  The 
old   Indian  mentioned  above  had  on  snow 
shoes  in  order  to  walk  without  sinking ;  the 
toe  of  one  of  his  shoes  caught  in  a  small  snag 
which  threw    him    face  foremost  into   the 
snow,  and  being  heavily    laden   with  bear 
meat,  the  strap  to  whion  it  was  suspended 
came  over  his  arms,  and  made  it  very  diffi- 
cult for  him  to  rise.  Without  thinking  where 
I  was,  and  the  danger  I  was  in,  I  laughed  at 
the  old  man  struggling  under  the  heavy  pres- 
sure of  his  bear  meat.    Fortunately  he  did 


84 


atherton's  narrativb. 


.)*",   .1 


not  perceive  me;  one  of  the  young  men 
shook  his  head  at  u  e,  giving  me  to  under- 
stand that  I  was  riskmg  my  Hfe.  I  discov- 
ered int  he  was  lalso  amused,  but  was  afraid 
to  nianifost  it.  Our  hut  was  now  well  sup- 
plied with  meat,  the  finest  that  the  country 
could  furnish.  I  flattered  myself  that  we 
should  not  want  soon  again ;  but  to  my  ut- 
ler  astonishment,  our  old  squaw,  my  Indian's 
mother-in-law,  sat  up  the  whole  night  and 
cooked  every  ounce  of  it!  And  worse  yet — 
to  my  great  discouragement,  the  neighbors 
were  called  in  next  morning,  bringing  wood- 
en dishes  along  with  them,  and  after  many 
ceremonies,  the  whole  was  divided  between 
the  company,  who  eat  what  they  could  and 
packed  off  ihe  balance. 

There  were  times  when  we  were  very 
scarce  of  provisions.  On  one  occasion,  I  re- 
member, we  had  for  dinner  a  small  piece  of 
bear  meat,  which,  I  suppose,  had  berii  sent 
in  by  some/ of  the  neighbors.  Our  o.a  mo- 
ther cooked  and  placed  it  in  a  wooden  bowl, 
which  was  all  the  china  we  had.  Our  dog 
was  looking  on  with  interest,  being  nearly 
starved ;  and  when  the  old  lady  turned  her 
back,  he  sprang  in  upon  the  meai  and  started 
with  !.  in  his  lAPUth.    The  old  squaw,  rnih 


ATHERTON'S  NARRATIVE. 


85 


men 

liscov- 
afraid 
11  sup- 
)untry 
It   we 
ny  ut- 
idian's 
it  and 
yet— 
^hbors 
wood- 
many 
it  ween 
Id  and 

J  very 
1, 1  re- 
iece  of 
a  sent 
id  mo- 
L  bowl, 
JT  dog 
nearly 
ed  her 
started 
r,  t^^ith 


great  prest  ;.;:  oi  mind,  seized  him  by  the 
x\roiit  to  prevent  him  from  swallowing  it. 
She  succeeded,  and  replacing  it  in  the  bowl, 
we  eat  it,  and  were  glad  to  get  it.  The  In- 
dian women  are  doomed  to  a  hard  life.  They 
do  the  drudgeiy.  In  removing  from  one 
camp  to  another,  they  pack  the  goods  and 
children — the  men  carrying  only  their  guns. 
I  have  seen  the  women  wade  into  the  water 
to  their  waists  in  cold  freezing  weather. 

Among  the  Lidians,  I  saw  several  persons 
who  had  lost  the  tip  of  their  nose.  This  was 
strange,  especially  among  the  females.  But 
since,  when  I  was  in  Detroit,  I  learned  that 
this  was  a  mode  of  punishing  adultery  and  for- 
nication among  some  tribes.  I  am  unable  to 
vouch  for  the  correctness  of  this  statement. 

I  will  here  give  the  reader  the  history  of  a 
corn  dance  which  took  place  sometime  this 
winter.  Our  squaws  had  brought  in  some 
corn  from  the  towns.  The  neighbors  were 
called  together,  neither  to  eat,  nor  drink,  but 
to  dance.  Considerable  preparations  were 
made.  Every  thing  was  removed  from  near 
the  large  fire  that  was  burning  in  the  centre. 
The  company  consisted  of  grown  persons  on- 
ly. One  was  chosen  to  make  music,  which 
he  did  by  singing  and  rattling  a  gourd  with 

8 


^m 


.t^m^^:: 


86 


atherton's  narrative. 


i    i 


shot,  or  beans  in  it.  They  danced  round  the 
fire  in  single  file,  the  men  in  front.  The 
women,  whilst  dancing,  keep  their  feet  close 
together,  and  perform  the  exercise  by  jump- 
ing. The  men  sling  their  arms  most  violent- 
ly and  awkardly,  and  stamp  their  feet  so  as 
to  make  the  earth  sound.  They  kept  up  this 
exercise  until  a  late  hour  in  the  night.  All 
seemed  to  partake  of  the  joy,  which  they 
considered  to  be  of  a  sacred  character.  It 
was  a  thanksgiving  for  a  supply  of  corn,  and 
the  near  approach  of  spring.  This  dance 
was  finished  by  a  young  Indian,  selected  for 
the  purpose,  who  performed  the  closing  ex- 
ercise with  great  animation.  They  now  all 
quietly  returned  to  their  homes  without  tak- 
ing any  kind  of  refreshment. 

I  soon  become  satisfied  that  man  in  a  state 
o^  nature  labored  under  many  and  serious 
disadvantages,  particularly* in  the  art  of  pre- 
paring their  food.  Though  modern  refine- 
ment has  no  doubt  carried  this  matter  too  far, 
we  may  with  safety  venture  to  say  that  man 
in  an  uncultivated  btate  falls  as  far  below 
what  is  fit  and  proper  ior  human  health  and 
comfort  as  refinemonl  has  gone  beyond. 

The  very  best  they  can  ro  is  to  make  their 
corn  into  a  kind  of  small  homony,  which  they 


atiierton's  narrative. 


87 


ump- 
)lent- 
so  as 
this 
All 
they 
It 
,  and 
ance 
d  for 
;  ex- 
iv  all 
tak- 


do  by  the  very  hardest  method,  that  of  pound- 
ing it  in  a  mortar — and  this  labor  is  perform- 
ed by  the  women — after  which  it  is  boiled 
something  like  half  an  hour,  when  it  is  eaten 
without  salt  or  any  thing  else  with  it.  But 
frequently  it  is  prepared  without  this  process, 
by  boiling  the  corn  just  as  it  comes  from  the 
ear  until  a  littla  softened.  They  seem  per- 
fectly satisfied  with  this  alone,  once  or  twice 
a  day  without  any  thing  else,  for  they  scarce- 
ly ever  eat  meat  and  corn  at  the  same  time. 
But  they  eat  most  enormous  quantities,  with- 
out any  apparent  rule  as  to  time  or  quantity. 
I  hcive  known  them  to  eat  several  times 
heartily  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours ;  and  per- 
haps the  next  day  hunt  all  day  without  eat- 
ing any  thing  at  all.  I  think  it  probable  that 
it  would  hardly  have  taken  all  that^we  saw 
and  experienced  to  have  satisfied  even  Vol- 
ney  himself,  that  the  civilized  is  greatly  to  be 
prefered  to  the  savage  life. 

At  this  camp  I  also  witnessed  the  mode  of 
cleansing  their  bodies.  They  bent  hickory 
poles  in  the  form  of  wagon  bows,  and  cov- 
ered them  over  with  blankets.  Thev  then 
took  with  them  a  bowl  of  water  and  a  large 
hot  stone.  Two  went  in  together;  they 
poured  the  water  upon  the  hot  rock,  and  re- 


f!l; 


i)<  I' 


88 


atherton's  narrative. 


m 


mained  within  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,, 
sometimes  singing  and  rattling  the  old  shot 
gourd.  They  would  then  come  forth  covered 
with  sweat,  ^nd  sometimes  plunge  them- 
selves instantly  into  the  river  which  was  at 
hand. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  proper  here  to  notice 
the  mode  of  worship  of  the  Indians.  I  speak 
only  of  the  outer  form :  I  know  but  little  of 
the  object  of  their  worship  as  I  did  not  un- 
derstand their  language.  There  appears  to 
be  some  similarity  between  them  and  the 
Jews.  Their  sacrifices  and  fasts  are  frequent. 
Their  fasts  are  promptly  and  faithfully  atten- 
ded to.  Only  one  member,  however,  of  the 
family  fasts  at  a  time,  which  he  does  for  sev- 
eral days  together,  eating  nothing  until  the 
afternoon.  They  treat  their  females  at  the 
birth  of  their  children  in  a  way  to  remind  one 
of  the  Jewish  custom.  See  Lev.  12  chap. 
At  such  limes — let  the  season  be  as  it  may — 
the  woman  is  compelled  to  camp  out  in  the 
woods  by  herself,  and  there  remain  for  a  cer- 
tain number  of  days.  And  when  she  is  al- 
lowed to  rettirn  to  the  camp  of  the  family, 
she  must  cook  in  a  separate  vessel  for  so  ma- 
ny days  longer. 

Our  old  man  was  verv  fervent  in  his  devo- 


AtltfiATON^d  Ka:riIa1iVe. 


89 


tions,  especially  in  his  prayers.  I  never  saw 
anything  like  idolatry  among  them. 

They  are  particularly  careful  to  entertain 
strangers.  They  arc  also  very  hospitable 
among  themselves — they  will  divide  the  last 
morsel  with  each  other.  Indians  travelling, 
lind  homes  wherever  they  find  wigwams. 
If  there  is  only  provision  enough  for  one,  the 
stranger  gets  it,  and  gets  it  freely.  When 
any  are  fortunate  in  hunting,  and  it  is  known 
to  them  that  others  want  provisions,  they 
send  them  a  part  of  theirs  without  waiting 
•for  them  to  send  for  it. 

You  have  been  presented  with  the  manner 
in  which  we  spent  our  time  during  the  cold 
weather,  until  sugar^making  came  on ;  and 
now  we  found  work  enough.  We  n^moved 
to  a  beautiful  grove  of  sugar  trees,  and  near 
the  centie  of  it  we  pitched  our  camp,  which 
is  the  Indian  mode.  We  soon  made  a  quan- 
tity of  sugar,  and  some  of  a  fine  quality. 
We  used  molasses  and  sugar  with  our  veni- 
son and  bear  meat;  and  sometimes  we  made 
our  meals  upon  sugar  and  bear's  oil,  which 
was  better  living  than  the  reader  might  sup- 
pose without  being  acquainted  with  the  dish. 

The  Indians  are  sometimes  very  filthy  in 

their  diet.    They  will  kill  a  deer  and  lake 

8* 


:^f 


'^ 


90 


I 


ATHERTON's   NAllItATIVe. 


ii  i 


i 


> 


%; 


in 


^  .S^ 


'    i! 


out  the  entrails,  rip  them  up,  turn  out  the 
contents,  shake  them  a  few  times  in  the 
snow,  throw  them  for  a  few  moments  upon 
the  lire,  and  devour  them  like  hungry  dogs. 
When  they  kill  a  deer  with  young,  the  young 
are  considt^red  as  a  choice  dish.  They  roast 
them  whole.  They  will  eat  every  animal, 
and  at  every  part  of  it,  from  the  bear  to  the 
polecat. 

Shortly  after  the  breaking  of  the  ice,  the 
old  father,  one  son,  and  myself,  left  camp  for 
an  otter  hunt.  We  ascended  the  river,  pla- 
cing traps  where  we  discovered  that  otters 
had  passed  up  and  down  the  banks.  This 
•we  did  during  the  first  day,  leaving  them  un- 
til our  return.  We  encamped  during  the 
first  night  on  the  bank  of  the  river.  We  had 
nothing  to  eat.  We  spent  the  whole  of  the 
second  day  in  hunting,  without  any  success; 
it  was  a  cold  rainy  day,  and  we  lay  down 
the  second  night  without  a  mouthful  to  eat. 
On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  the  old  man 
left  the  camp  very  early,  and  about  twelve 
o'clock  returned,  bringing  with  him  two 
pheasants;  they  were  put  into  the  pot  imme- 
diately. 1  feared  my  portion  would  be  small, 
as  the  Indians,  when  hungry,  eat  most  enor- 
mously;  but  another  pheasant    was  heard 


AtnEHTON's   NARRATIVE. 


91 


near  the  camp,  which  the  Indian  succeeded 
in  killing.  It  was  soon  in  the  pot,  and  fear- 
ing lest  the  Indians  should  eat  up  theirs  and 
then  want  mine,  I  did  not  wait  until  it  was 
properly  cooked  before  I  went  to  work  upon 
it.  We  soon  devoured  the  three  pheasants 
without  either  bread  or  salt.  After  this  fine 
dianer  we  returned  to  camp  again.  We  ex- 
amined our  traps  but  found  no  game. 

The  spring  of  the  year  now  canie — the  ice 
and  snow  began  fast  to  disappear — and  I  now 
began  to  think  more  of  iiome  than  I  had 
done  during  the  cold  season.  When  the  sun 
began  to  shine  warm,  and  the  birds  to  sing 
around  me,  I  would  often  retire  from  the 
camp  where  I  could  think  of  home,  and  weep, 
without  being  discovered.  During  the  time 
spent  in  these  lonely  retreats,  which  I  sought 
often  lor  the  purpose  of  reflection,  Shelby- 
villCf  Kentucky,  the  place  of  my  home,  would 
rise  up  before  my  mind  with  all  its  inhabit- 
ants and  endearments.  I  would  think  of 
friends  and  youthful  associates — of  the  green 
over  which  I  had  played  when  a  boy  at 
school — and  of  the  church  to  which  I  gave 
my  hand  as  a  seeker  of  religion  a  few  months 
before  I  left ;  and  of  my  aged  parents,  who  I 
knew  needed  my  assistance.    These  reflec* 


i^2 


.0. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


// 


1.0 


M    12.5 


I.I 


Mi 

1^    12.2 

jj- 


Its 


1.25   ||U 

1.6 

.4 6"     — 

► 

V 


<^ 


^v.^^ 

> 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


\ 


<v 


<F 


\\ 


^V 


O^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


B 


:^ 


!    •'■ 


!  ■'. 


92 


AfHfittTOJS^S   NARRATlVie. 


tions  crowding  upon  me  at  once,  togethel* 
with  the  difficulty  and  danger  of  making  an 
escape,  would  at  times  almost  overwhelm  me 
with  sorrow  and  despair.  But  the  kindness 
and  sympathy  manifested  toward  me  by  the 
Indians,  and  particularly  by  the  wife  of  the 
man  who  took  me  a  prisoner,  took  off  a  part 
of  the  burthen.  This  poor  heathen  woman* 
who  knew  nothing  of  civilization,  and  the 
softening  influences  of  the  Gospel,  neverthe- 
less showed  that  the  tenderness  and  affection 
which  the  Gospel  requires  were  deeply  im-» 
printed  upon  her  heart.  I  had  another 
source  of  comfort :  I  found  among  the  In- 
dians a  piece  of  a  newspaper  printed  at  Lex^ 
ington,  Kentucky,  which  I  suppose  had  wrap- 
ped up  the  clothes  of  some  of  Captain  Hart's 
men,  and  thus  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  In- 
dians at  Raisin.  This  I  read  over  and  over, 
again  and  again.  I  would  frequently  try  to 
learn  the  Indians  the  letters  and  their  sounds  ; 
this  to  tl.^m  was  a  very  pleasing  employ- 
ment. 

The  Indians  now  began  to  prepare  to  rec- 
tum to  Detroit.  This  was  very  encouraging 
to  me,  for  I  now  began  again  to  indulge  a 
hope  that  one  day  I  should  yet  be  free,  and 
reach  my  friends  at  home.    All  hands  turned 


ATHERTON'S  NARRATIVE. 


93 


out  to  making  bark  canoes.  We  made  two 
for  each  large  family.  In  these  canoes  we 
ascended  the  river  upon  which  we  had  for 
some  time  been  encamped,  until  we  came  to 
the  very  Iiead  spring — 1  had  no  means  of  as- 
certaining the  name  of  this  river — we  then 
took  up  our  canoes  and  carried  them  three 
or  four  miles,  to  the  head  waters  of  a  river 
that  empties  into  lake  Erie  between  the  riv- 
ers Raisin  and  Detroit.  The  ridge  over 
which  we  carried  our  canoes  divides  the  wa- 
ters of  lake  Michigan  and  lake  Erie.  After 
entering  this  stream  we  advanced  finely,  find- 
ing fish  in  great  abundance.  I  now  began 
to  feel  quite  cheerful,  and  things  put  on  a  dif- 
ferent aspect.  This  was  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  little  rivers  I  ever  beheld — I  could 
see  the  fish  at  the  bottom  where  the  water 
was  ten  feet  in  depth — its  beauty  was  much 
heightened  by  passing  through  several  small 
lakes,  the  v/aters  of  which  always  enlarged 
— perhaps  increased  its  waters  one  half. 
These  lakes  were  bordered  round  by  various 
kinds  of  shrubbery  bending  over  the  water. 
It  was  now,  as  near  as  I  could  guess,  about 
the  first  of  May,  and  the  scenes  were  indeed 
beautiful  to  one  who  had  been  freezing  and 
starving  in  a  northern  winter,  almost  naked 


:i.«^ 


1,   *i.' '  ii' 


94 


atherton's  narrative* 


—and  now  turning,  as  he  fondly  hoped,  his 
face  homeward.     I  became  more  and  more 
anxious  to  escape,  as  the  prospect  opened  be- 
fore me.    I  had  several  times  formed  in  my 
mind  plans  by  which  I  thought  I  might  es- 
cape, but   being  young    and  unacquainted 
with  the  woods,  and  knowing  that  I  must  be 
a  distance  from  any  of  our  forts,  I  was  afraid 
to  attempt  it ;  but  now,  as  I  believed  I  was 
not  far  from  Fort  Meigs,   I  determined  to 
make  the  attempt.    For  this  purpose  I  gath- 
ered up  my  bow  and  arrows,  which  had  laid 
in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  for  some  time, 
and  which  I  did  not  intend  to  use  any  more, 
but  I  wanted   them  as  an  excuse  to  get  out 
and  take  such  a  start,  without  being  suspect- 
ed, as  would  enable  me  to  make  good  my  es- 
cape.    We  encamped  on  this  river  several 
days;   waiting,  I  suppose,  for  orders  from  the 
British.    During  this   time  I  prepared  my- 
self for   the  escape,  but  unfortunately  for 
my  design,  the  camp  was  on  the  wrong  side 
of  the  river,  and  I  could  not  take  a  canoe 
without  being  discovered,  the  camp  being  inr- 
mediately  on  the  bank  of  the  stream.    In  a 
few  days  we  continued  our  journey.     About 
this  time  I  saw  the  first  bread  since  I  had 
been  taken  prisoner.    Some  of  the  Indians 


atherton's  narrative. 


95 


d,  hi^ 
more 
ed  be- 
in  my 
;ht  es- 
ainted 
ust  be 
afraid 
I  was 
led  to 
[  gath- 
id  laid 

time, 
more, 
;et  out 
ispect- 
ny  es- 
leveral 
>m  the 
i  my- 
ly  for 
ig  side 

canoe 
ng  inr- 
In  a 
About 

I  had 
ndians 


had  been  to  the  settlement  and  obtained 
about  half  a  gallon  of  flour ;  they  prepared 
it  in  their  homely  way,  but  I  thought  it  the 
best  bread  that  I  had  ever  tasted. 

On  our  way  down  the  river,  as  we  came 
to  the  road  leading  from  river  Raisin  to  De- 
troit, we  fell  in  with  some  Indians  who  h?d 
been  at  Dudley's  defeat.  There  was  a  young 
man  with  them,  a  prisoner;  the  Indians  told 
me  by  signs  to  talk  with  him.  When  I  ap- 
proached and  spoke  to  him,  he  seemed  aston- 
ished, for  he  had  taken  me  for  an  Indian ;  but 
when  he  discovered  my  being  an  American 
he  was  greatly  rejoiced.  He  asked  many 
questions  about  the  Indians,  and  if  I  thought 
that  they  would  sell  him.  I  told  him  I  thought 
they  would  not,  as  I  had  been  their  prisoner 
since  the  battle  at  Raisin,  and  they  had  not 
offered  to  dispose  of  me.  I  farther  told  him 
I  thought  his  hopes  ot  getting  away  soon,  if 
ever,  gloomy.  He  gave  me  a  most  horrible 
account  of  the  dbfeat  of  Colonel  Dudley,  and 
the  slaughter  and  massacre  of  his  men — -and 
expressed  fears  that  General  Harrison  would 
be  taken.  This  was  bitter  news  to  me. 
While  we  were  talking,  the  Indians  stood 
around  and  seemed  to  catch  at  every  word, 
and  watch  every  expression  of  our  faces-— 


'  1-  i|i 


■-^r .! 


[mil 


M 


atherton's  narrative. 


showing  the  greatest  anxiety  to  know  what 
we  said.  They  would  laugh,  and  look  at 
each  other  and  speak  a  word  or  two.  It 
seemed  to  afford  them  pleasure  to  hear  us 
converse.  But  the  time  having  arrived  for 
us  to  proceed  on  our  journey,  we  parted — his 
company  was  going  by  land,  and  ours  by 
water,  to  Maiden.  If  I  heard  the  name  of 
the  young  man  I  have  forgotten  it.  He  was 
g'.nteel  and  intelligent.  He  informed  me 
that  he  was  a  Surgeon.  I  never  saw  him 
again,  and  think  it  probable  that  he  was  kill- 
ed by  the  Indians — I  am  inclined  to  this  opin- 
ion because  the  Indians,  we  understood, 
brought  in  and  offered  for  sale,  that  spring, 
all  which  thev  did  not  intend  to  kill.  I  think 
if  he  had  been  brought  in  I  should  have  seen 
him.  Some,  it  is  highly  probable,  were  put 
to  death  in  the  room  of  those  of  their  friends 
who  had  fallen  in  battle. 

We  encamped  at  night,  after  we  saw  the 
young  man  named  above,  on  an  island  not  far 
Tom  Maiden.  The  next  day  we  arrived,  and 
the  Indians  took  me  down  into  the  town, 
where  I  passed  for  an  Indian.  It  was  very 
unpleasant  to  me  to  hear  such  swearing  and 
profanity — I  soon  left,  and  returned  to  the 
camp.    In  a  few  days  we  went  up  the  river 


atherton's  narrative. 


97 


what 
)ok  at 
ro.    It 
[ear  us 
^ed  for 
! — his 
irs  by 
ime  of 
e  was 
jd  me 
V  him 
IS  kill- 
5  opin- 
'stood, 
spring, 
[  think 
e  seen 
re  put 
nends 

w  the 
lot  far 
i,  and 
town, 
very 
z  and 
o  the 
river 


to  the  neighborhood  of  Detroit,  and  pitched 
our  tent  near  the  spring  wells  on  the  bank  of 
Detroit   river.     Soon   after  our  arrival   ar- 
rangements   v^ere    made  with    the    British 
Commissarv  to  draw  rations  of  bread,  and 
sometimes  fish.     They  had  the  number  of  the 
family  put  down  in  writing,  which  the  In- 
dians were  to  present  before  they  could  draw 
the  supply.    The  old  Indian,  having  by  some 
means  ascertained  that  I  could  write,  fell  up- 
on a  stratagem  to  increase  the   quantity  of 
bread.     He  furnished  me  with  a  slip  of  paper, 
and  proposed  that  we  should  alter  the  number 
of  our  family,  and  make  it  larger;  I  did  so, 
and  made   it  about  double.     I  went  up  with 
the  note  myself  the  first  time,  to  see  how  it 
would  take.     The  Indians  gave  me  a  horse 
and  bag,  and  sent  a  young  man  of  another 
family  with  me  as  a  guard,  the  distance  being 
several  miles.     The  young  man  obtained  his 
bread  sooner  than  I  did,  and  left  me  alone.    I, 
after  so  long  a  time-,  got  my  bread  and  start- 
ed; as  I  passed  through  the  streets  of  De- 
troit, a  lady  spoke  to  me  from  an  upper  win- 
dow, and  said :  "Are  you  not  a  prisoner,  sir?'- 
"I  am,  madam."     "Why  do  you  not  leave 
the  horse  in  the  street  and  go  to  the  fort' 

then?"    I  told  her  I  was  afraid;  but  did  not 
9 


'(■'»■■  * 


.*<    :   I 


98 


atherton's  narrative. 


say  I  lacked  confidence  in  the  British,  i 
feared  they  would  not  protect  me,  but  deliv- 
er me  up  if  the  Indians  should  demand  me. 

I  went  on  toward  home,  and  when  I  got 
in  sight  I  discovered  that  they  had  become 
uneasy,  for  the  most  of  them  were  looking 
out  towards  Detroit.  When  they  saw  me  they 
raised  a  great  yell,  and  received  me  and  my 
bag  of  bread  with  great  joy. 

Some  time  shortly  after  this  the  old  man 
dressed  himself  up  in  the  finest  kind  of  Indian 
style,  for  he  was  a  Chief.  He  greased  his 
face,  and  then  pounded  and  rubbed  charcoal 
on  it  until  he  was  as  black  as  a  negro.  He 
then  painted  my  face  red,  and  we  started  to- 
gether  to  town,  he  walking  in  front.  As  we 
passed  along  the  streets  the  people  were 
very  free  in  making  their  remarks  upon  us. 
"  There  goes  a  mulato,"  said  one,  &c.,  &c. 
I  seemed  to  pay  but  little  attention  to  what 
was  said,  but  followed  mv  old  Indian  about 
fron:i  place  to  place. 

In  a  few  days  they  sent  me  over  to  Sand- 
wic/i,  to  exchange  skins  for  boiled  cider.  I 
succeeded;  and  they  drank  it  hot,  that  it 
might  produce  the  greater  effect;  their  only 
design  seeming  to  be  to  produce  intoxication. 
They  are  liberal  with  eyQvy  thing  they  pos- 


atiierton's  narrative. 


99 


h.  I 
deliv- 
fie. 
I  got 
come 
oking 
they 
my 


I 


sess  but  rum.  I  once  saw  an  Indian  niwe  an- 
other  a  dram,  and  being  afraid  that  he  would 
take  too  much,  he  first  measured  it  in  his 
own  mouth,  and  then  put  it  into  a  tin  cup  for 
his  friend  to  drink. 

Whilst  we  were  here  I  saw  Indians  take 
medicine.  I  did  not  ascertain  what  kina  of 
medicine  it  was,  only  it  was  something  which 
they  gathered  from  the  woods.  They  boiled 
it  down  until  it  became  thick  and  black. 
They  dug  a  hole  in  the  ground—  ^urnished 
themselves  with  a  kettle  of  v/arm  ..ater  and 
a  piece  of  inner  bark — after  they  took  two 
or  three  poi  tions  of  this  stuff,  they  laid  down 
flat  upon  the  ground,  with  their  mouths  over 
this  hole,  and  commenced  vomiting.  They 
would  then  drink  large  draughts  of  warm 
water,  thrust  the  piece  of  bark  down  their 
throats  and  vomit  again.  This  course  they 
would  sometimes  pursue  for  hours  together, 
until  one  would  think  that  they  were  almost 
dead,  but  they  would  leave  off  this  vomit- 
ing business  and  go  about  as  though  nothing 
had  disturbed  them.  I  heard  nothing  of  any 
sickness  before  this  medicinal  course  was 
commenced,  from  which  I  inferred  that  thev 
took  medicine  in  the  spring  season  whether 
sick  or  well. 


i' 


lil 


■I'M  r 


■  If,  i      •■T 


I 


100 


atiierton's  narrative. 


Not  fav  from  our  encampment  was  the 
grave  of  an  Indian  who  had  been  buried  sev- 
eral weeks.  An  old  squaw  raised  an  alarm, 
saying  that  he  had  been  heard  to  make  a 
noise.  The  Indians  ran  with  all  haste  to  the 
.^rave — I  went  too  to  see  what  was  to  be 
done — but  although  they  listened  with  their 
ears  upon  the  ground,  and  then  stamped  with 
their  feet,  and  scratched  in  the  earth,  the  In- 
dian lay  still  and  dead  in  his  grave. 

I  learned  from  the  preparations  in  camp 
that  the  squaws  were  soon  to  go  out  to  the 
Indian  towns  and  raise  corn,  and  that  I  was 
to  go  with  them.  I  resolved  that  I  would 
not  go,  if  my  escape  should  cost  me  my  life. 
1  began  immediately  to  think  and  plan  some 
niethod  of  escape;  but  every  way  appeared 
to  be  hedged  up ;  there  were  Indian  camps 
in  every  direction;  there  was  some  faint 
prospect  of  success  down  the  river.  I  also 
thought  of  risking  myself  in  the  hands  of  the 
British,  but,  as  I  before  said,  I  could  not  trust 
them;  and  it  was  well  for  me  that  1  did  not, 
as  I  afterwards,  to  my  sore  affliction,  found 
them  haughty  and  very  inhuman  to  Ameri- 
can prisoners.  1  wish  this  censure  to  rest 
only  upon  the  British  officers,  as  many  of  the 


ATIIERTON's    KAURATIVE. 


101 


the 
sev- 

irm, 
ve  a 
the 

0  be 
leir 

vith 

!  In- 


'soldicrs  would  have  treated  us  kindlv  if  it  had 
been  in  their  power. 

Just  at  this  crisis,  however,  an  half  Indian, 
who  spoke  English,  came  to  our  camp.  J 
took  this  opportunity  of  communicating  to 
the  Indians  my  desire  of  being  sold  to  the 
inhabitants  of  Detroit,  who  were  purchasing 
prisoners  from  the  Indians.  Here  I  run  a 
great  risk — I  knew  not  that  they  would  not 
instantly  kill  me  for  making  such  a  request. 
No  sooner  had  the  half  Indian  told  my  wish- 
es, than  every  ej^e  was  fixed  upon  me;  some 
seemed  astonished,  and  others  angry,  because 
I  would  think  of  leaving  after  liaving  been 
adopted  into  the  family.  They  soon  made 
signs  that  I  might  go,  and  the  old  man  be- 
gan to  look  out  for  a  purchaser.  Some  of 
them  treated  me  cooly  from  tliat  time  until 
I  left.  A  Frenchman  came  to  our  camp, 
and  offered  a  young  horse  for  me — we  went 
several  miles  down  the  river  to  see  the  horse 
— the  Indian  and  Frenchman  talked  a  long 
time — the  Frenchman  showed  several  other 
horses — the  Indian  did  not  fancy  any  of 
them,  and  there  was  no  trade.  I  felt  disap- 
pointed, being  very  anxious  to  be  swapped 
off.     On  the  next  day  another  Frenchman 

came  to  camp  riding  a  snug  little  pony,  with 

9* 


102 


ATIlEflTON'.^   NAIlHATIVIi. 


mm 


mane  and  tail  reached  nnd  trimmed.  Thi^ 
horse  took  the  old  man's  eye,  and  they  soon 
closed  the  bargain.  Tiie  long  desired  hour 
had  come  at  last.  I  felt  that  I  was  again 
free  from  the  hand  of  the  wild  savacje.  I 
packed  up  the  few  tattered  rags  of  clothing 
which  were  mine,  and  prepared  to  leave; 
but  after  all,  savages  as  they  wore,  I  was  sor- 
ry when  I  bid  them  a  final  farewell.  The 
wife  of  the  man  who  took  me  prisoner  had 
always  been  kind — she  aided  greatly  to  les- 
sen my  sufferings — she  had  often  fed  me,  and 
when  under  the  rigors  of  a  northern  winter, 
in  the  wilderness,  had  thrown  a  blanket  up- 
on my  shiverinfr  frame  at  niijjht;  she  had  re- 
strained  the  young  men  from  imposing  upon 
me,  as  they  would  do  by  taking  rny  food,  and 
my  place  at  the  fire.  After  Mr.  J.  B.  Cecott, 
the  man  who  bought  me,  and  I  loft  the  camp, 
the  Indians  stood  and  looked  after  us  as  long 
as  they  could  see  us.  Mr.  Cecott  took  me 
to  his  own'  house,  gave  me  a  suit  of  clothes, 
and  introduced  me  to  his  family.  Now  I  felt 
that  home  was  much  nearer,  being  again 
among  a  civilized  people  who  could  speak  the 
English  language. 

And  here  let  me  pause  a  moment  to  re- 
mark— as  I  am  about  to  leave  the  Indians, 


\ 


ATIIKRTON*S    NARRATIVE. 


103 


never  I  hope  lo  spend  another  winter  with 
them  under  the  same  circumstances — that  the 
few  months  of  captivity  with  this  people, 
were,  taken  altogether,  the  most  cheerless 
and  solitary  of  any  part  of  my  life  of  which 
1  have  anv  recollection.  Tliouf'h  manv  years 
have  rolled  by  since  the  events  transpired, 
the  impression  they  made  upon  my  mind  is 
almost  as  fresh  as  ever. 

Several  things  contributed  to  render  the 
scene  more  glooiny.  I  lost  the  day  of  the 
month,  and  also  the  day  of  the  week;  every 
day  seemed  alike.  No  person  can  have  an 
idea,  unless  they  are  placed  in  the  same  pre- 
dicament, how  it  changes  the  face  of  things 
to  lose  oil  those  divisions  of  time  tliat  we 
have  been  accustomed  to  observe  from  our 
childhood.  But  this  was  not  all;  to  render 
the  hours  more  tedious  and  solitary,  there 
WPS  not  one,  of  all  the  families  that  belonged 
to  our  company,  that  could  either  speak  Eng- 
lish, or  understand  one  word  of  it.  And 
thus,  day  after  day,  and  week  after  week, 
passed  over  without  uttering  a  solitary  word, 
unless  sometimes,  when  a  little  distance  from 
camp,  I  would  say  a  word  or  two  just  to 
hear  the  sound  of  my  own  voice;  and  it 
Would  seem  so  strange  to  me,  that  it  would 


f'>9 


104 


ATHERTON'S  NARRATIVE. 


almost  startle  me.  AnJ,  in  addition  to  all 
this,  I  was  almost  eaten  up  by  vermin;  some- 
times almost  starved;  and  shut  out  fromr»all 
civilized  society;  almost  literally  buricid.  in 
the  snows  of  Michigan;  and  in  order  to,pie- 
vent  actual  starvation,  the  Indians  were  com- 
pelled to  remove  from  place  to  place,  where  it 
was  supposed  the  hunting  would  be  better. 
This  subjected  us  to  greater  inconvenience,  and 
often  to  great  suffering  from  cold,  having  to 
clear  away  the  snow,  which  was. very  deep. 

But  the  uncertainty,  and  the  improbability, 
of  being  released,  being  constantly  upon  me, 
and  there  appeared  not  the  least  gleam  of 
hope  until  it  was  announced,  by  the  prepara- 
tions 1  saw  making  in  the  spring,  to  go  to 
Detroit. 

I  have  nothing  to  say  against  the  Indian 
character — but  many  things  in  favor  of  it — 
but  much  against  their  manner  of  life.  They 
are  a  brave,  generous,  liospitable,  kind,  and 
among  themselves,  an  honest  people;  and 
when  thf?y  intend  to  save  the  life  of  a  pris- 
oner they  will  do  it,  if  it  should  be  at  the  risk 
of  their  own.  But  after  all  this  is  said,  no 
one  can  form  any  adequate  idea  of  what  a 
man  must  suffer,  who  spends  a  winter  with 
them  in  the  snows  of  Michigan. 


atherton's  narrative. 


105 


But  now,  that  I  was  released  by  the  friend- 
ly hand  of  a  stranger,  Mr.  Cecott,  whom  I 
shall  recollect  with  feelings  of  gratitude  so 
long  as  I  can  recollect  anything — I  felt  more 
than  I  shall  ever  be  able  to  express.  Hope, 
which  had  almost  perished,  iiov^  began  to  re- 
vive, and  the  sight  of  home  and  friends  once 
more  began  to  be  thought  of  as  a  matter  not 
altogether  impracticable — and  that  I  should 
set  my  foot  again  upon  the  happy  soil  of 
Kentucky. 

But  disappointment  was  at  the  door.  Mr. 
Cecott  informed  me  in  a  few  days  that  he 
would  be  compelled  to  give  me  up  to  the 
British  as  a  prisoner  .of  war.  I  gave  him  my 
note  for  the  horse  which  he  gave  for  me, 
which  I  paid  him  about  eighteen  months  af- 
terwards, when  I  went  out  to  war  again,  un- 
der General  McArthur.  I  think  the  horse 
was  valued  at  thirty  six  dollars — you  see 
what  I  was  worth  in  money.  A  number  of 
prisoners  were  sold  at  Detroit  from  time  to 
time,  and  many  of  the  citizens  showed  great 
liberaUty  and  humanity  in  purchasing  them. 
It  should  be  spoken  and  recorded  to  their 
praise,  that  some  of  the  citizens  spent  nearly 
every  thing  which  they  possessed  in  buying 
prisoners  who  had  fallen  into  savage  hands. 


106 


ATHERtON's   NARRATIVE. 


!>:i,,i.  i  -i!,: 


m  I 


m  :i 


and  in  furnishing  them  with  clothing  and  pro- 
vision. 

When  i  was  delivered  to  the  British  as  a 
prisoner  of  war,  I  was  placed  in  the  guard- 
house, where  we  remained  all  summer.  Du- 
ring our  confinement  we  suffered  from  hun- 
ger, and  what  provisions  we  had  were  not 
good.  We  had  the  floor  for  a  bed,  and  a  log 
for  our  pillow,  all  the  time.  There  were  six 
or  eight  in  the  fort  that  had  been  purchased 
before  I  was — ihey  hod  were  taken  prisoners 
at  Dudley's  defeat. 

This  was  a  long  tedious  summer  to  me, 
for  we  had  no  employment  whatever,  but 
were  compelled  to  lay  about  the  fort  from 
the  end  of  one  month  to  another.  A  gen- 
tleman in  Detfoit  proposed  to  the  oflicer  in 
command,  to  be  surety  for  my  appearance,  if 
he  would  permit  me  to  go  into  the  town  and 
work  at  my  trade,  but  he  refused  to  let  me  go 
upon  any  terms  whatever. 

At  times,  during  the  summer,  the  streets 
of  Detroit  were  filled  with  Indians;  and  ma- 
ny of  them  came  to  see  us.  In  the  month 
of  July,  we  saw  them  have  a  young  woman 
prisoner,  whom  we  supposed  they  had  taken 
from  the  frontiers  of  Ohio.  We  could  never 
learn  what  disposition  they  made  of  her.    A 


atherton's  narrative. 


107 


company  of  the  Indians  from  the  northwest 
encamped  for  several  days  near  the  walls  of 
the  fort,  immediately  previous  to  their  going 
to  war.  This  gave  us  an  opportunity  of  as- 
certaining their  mode  of  preparation  for  war. 
Among  other  things,  they  eat  the  flesh  of 
dogs. 

During  our  imprisonment  here,  we  were 
brought  to  behold  a  very  shocking  sight.  We 
saw,  in  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  a  number  of 
scalps  fastened  in  hoops  made  for  the  purpose 
and  hung  out  before  the  fire  to  dry.  They  had 
been  but  recently  taken  off:  and  more  horrible 
yet,  the  most  of  them  were  the  scalps  of  fe- 
males! We  remained  for  sometime  upon 
the  fort  battery  observing  their  situation  and 
employment  before  they  sav/  us.  When  they 
beheld  us,  and  knew  that  we  were  prisoners, 
they  raised  the  war-whoop  instantly  in  token 
of  victory.  They  showed  the  tomahawk, 
and  pointed  to  the  scalps,  to  tell  that  they 
had  murdered  the  persons  with  the  toma- 
hawk. They  held  up  the  scalp  of  a  female 
and  showed  signs  of  savage  cruelty  and  bar- 
barity, which  I  had  never  seen  exhibited  be- 
fore. These  things  were  done  in  open  day, 
in  the  presence  of  the  British  officers;  and 
those  refined  gentlemen,  who  feel  that  they 


r. 


108 


ATI; 


lERTON* 


S   NARRATIVE. 


occupy  a  place  of  elevation  and  superior  rank 
in  society,  could  look  upon  these  shocking 
mockeries  of  humanity  with  the  hard-heart- 
edness  of  the  savages  themselves. 

Many  of  the  British  soldiers  were  kind  to 
us  in  our  imprisonment ;  they  would  steal  us 
out  by  night,  when  the  officers  were  away 
carousing,  that  we  might  get  some  recreation 
and  refreshment.  The  officers  were  haughty 
and  overbearing,  doing  nothing  for  our  com- 
fort. The  joy  that  1  felt  in  being  released 
from  the  Indians,  soon  died  amid  my  rough 
fare  in  the  British  prison.  During  the  sum- 
mer we  were  almost  entirely  naked;  and 
were  only  saved  from  becoming  completely 
so  by  the  generosity  of  Mr.  Hunt  of  Detroit, 
who  gave  us  each  a  suit  of  summer  clothes; 
which  was  all  the  clothing  that  we  got  until 
after  we  arrived  at  Quebec,  sometime  in  De- 
cember. About  the  first  of  August,  nearly 
all  the  soldiers  and  Indians  disappeared  from 
Detroit.  We  were  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
this,  but  supposed  they  had  gone  to  make  an 
attack  upon  some  of  the  forts,  or  frontier 
parts  of  the  Northwestern  Army.  It  was 
not  a  great  while  until  the  secret  was  out. 
They  came  home  cursing  Major  Croghan, 
(they  had  made  an  unsuccessful!  attack  upon 


ATUERTOI^'S   NARRATIVE. 


109 


Lower  Sandusky,)  and  saying  that  he  loaded 
his  guns  with  nails,  slugs,  and  with  any  thing 
and  every  thing  that  came  to  hand.  The 
faces  of  some  of  them  were  completely  pep- 
pered with  small  shot.  They  lost  a  number 
of  their  best  men  in  this  battle.  It  is  said  thai 
Captain  James  Hunter,  sometimes  known 
by  the  name  of  "old  Sandusky" — whom  Con- 
gress since  presented  with  a  sword  as  a  token 
of  national  respect — suspecting  that  the  Brit- 
ish and  Indians  would  undertake  to  storm 
the  fort,  right  or  wrong,  swung  up  a  long 
heavy  log,  which,  in  case  of  extreme  emer- 
gency, he  intended  to  use  as  a  dead-fall  by 
cutting  loose  the  ropes  which  held  it  upon" 
the  walls  of  the  fort.  This  Sandusky  engage- 
ment appears  to  have  been  a  hot  business  all 
around. 

The  well  known  battle  upon  the  lake,  in 
which  Perry  was  successful,  was  fought  dur- 
ing our  confinement  in  this  fort.  We  heard 
the  report  of  the  guns  plainly,  and  it  produced 
much  excitement  among  all.  Every  eye  was 
turned  toward  Maiden,  and  we  eagerly  caught 
every  word  that  came  from  that  direction. 

A  few  days  afterward  they  told  us  that 

the  British  had  taken  Perry  and  all  his  fleet. 

The  soldiers  laughed  at  us,  and  told  us  that 
10 


no 


atherton's  narrative. 


I  ili 


the  Yankees  knew  nothing  about  fighting  on 
the  water — that  they  could  whip  us  two  to 
one.  We  had  to  bear  this  as  well  a.^  we 
could,  until  we  saw  great  preparations  mak- 
ing every  where  to  remove  the  arms,  ammu- 
nition, &c.,  which  were  sent  up  the  river. 
We  now  suspected  that  they  had  misinformed 
us  of  the  result  of  the  battle.  When  we 
asked,  they  told  us  one  thing  and  then  an- 
other, until  one  of  the  soldiers  privately  told 
us  the  whole  tale — that  Perry  had  actually 
captured  the  British  fleet — and  that  the  Yan- 
kees were  coming  upon  us  in  great  numbers, 
and  were  just  "^t  hand.  We  now  turned  the 
tables  upon  them— it  was  our  time  to  be 
merry. 

Every  day  increased  the  hurry  and  confu- 
sion; boats  and  small  vessels  were  ascending 
the  river  Detroit,  bearing  off  arms,  provis- 
ions, and  every  species  of  property,  belong- 
ing to  the  British.  It  was  a  time  of  joy  to 
the  citizens  of  Detroit,  generally,  to  see  the 
Indians  and  British  leaving  so  rapidly:  and 
we  were  looking  almost  hourly  to  behold 
the  Kentuckians  appear  in  sight.  We  were, 
however,  hurried  up  the  river,  as  there  was 
no  opportunity  to  escape.  The  Indians  were 
always  kept  in  the  rear  during  a  retreat,  and 


gon 

\o  to 

we 

lak- 

imu- 

river. 

'med 

we 

an- 


atheeton's  narrativb. 


Ill 


stooi^  between  the  British  and  danger.  If  I 
had  kept  the  day  of  the  month,  I  could  tell 
where  Harrison,  Shelby,  and  Johnson ,  were 
at  the  time  when  we  left  Detroit.  Not  know- 
ing the  position  of  the  American  army,  it 
was  fruitless  to  hazard  an  effort  to  escape. 

Our  British  masters  crowded  us  into  a  ves- 
sel which  was  loaded  with  arms  and  ammu- 
nition, without  provisions  or  any  arrange- 
ments for  our  comfort  on  the  way.  As  we 
ascended  the  lake,  we  ran  aground  near  the  ^ 
mouth  of  the  river  Thames,  and  were  detain- 
ed two  days;  during  which  time  we  were 
compelled  to  unload  and  reload  the  vessel. 
All  this  ume  we  had  nothing  to  eat  but  what 
we  could  pick  up,  like  dogs,  from  the  offal  of 
the  ship.  Here  I  was  tempted,  and  worse 
yet,  yielded  to  the  temptation,  to  steal  some- 
thing to  eat,  and  risk  consequences.  The 
British  officer  had  some  beef  hung  out  on  the 
stern  of  the  vessel,  I  took  some  of  it,  and  we 
eat  it.  The  meat  was  tainted;  yet  it  was 
sweet  to  us,  not  because  it  was  stolen,  but 
because  we  were  starving. 

After  we  had  succeeded  in  getting  the  ves- 
sel over  the  sand-bar,  the  wind  was  unfavor- 
able, and  the  British  officer  determined  to 
abandon  her,  and  (after  getting  her  up  near 


;►■ 


mi 


^Ml 


■■ii 


112 


atherton's  narrative. 


DaIton*s  she  was  burned  to  prevent  the  Amer- 
icans from  making  any  spoils,)  here  we  were 
put  on  shore,  and  walked,  hungry  and  faint, 
fifteen  miles  to  Dal  ton's,  where  we  were 
guarded  closely.  This  was  only  the  begin- 
ning of  hard  times.  We  discovered  the  de- 
termination of  the  British  to  send  us  down 
through  Canada,  and  consequently  began  to 
Jose  all  hope  of  seeing  the  American  army. 
A  guard  of  British  and  Indians  was  prepared 
4  to  take  us  on.  A  cart  load  of  provision  was 
started  with  us,  but  we  never  saw  it  after  the 
morning  on  which  we  left  Dal  ton's.  Why 
this  provision  was  started,  and  not  suffered 
to  proceed,  we  never  could  even  guess.  The 
officer  v/as  very  rigorous,  and  would  not  suf- 
fer us  to  stop  and  procure  any  refreshment, 
but  drove  us  onward  like  cattle  going  to  mar- 
ket. The  second  night  after  we  left  Dalton's, 
we  encamped  in  the  woods.  They  now  kept 
a  close  watch  over  us — and  we  were  as  eager- 
ly looking  for  an  opportunity  to  escape.  Had 
we  forseen  the  sufferings  that  were  ahead, 
we  should,  at  least  some  us,  have  made  the 
attempt  to  escape  at  every  hazard.  As  sta- 
ted above,  our  provisions  were  left  behind, 
and  we  were  under  the  dominion  of  an  un- 
feeling wretch,  who  would  but  very  seldom 


■I,!!--'.**,,  . 


ATttERTON  .«»  NARRATIVE. 


113 


even  suffer  us  to  go  into  a  house  lo  ask  for  a 
morsel  of  bread.  He  would  march  us  hard 
all  day,  and  at  night  put  us  into  a  barn  or 
stable  tj  sleep.  We  often  travelled  in  the 
rain,  and  then  laid  down  without  fire  in  our 
wet  clothes  to  try  and  rest.  This  journey 
of  about  five  hundred  miles  by  land,  and  four 
hundred  by  water,  we  travelled,  in  that  cold 
and  rainy  country,  with  our  thin  gingham 
clothes,  given  to  u:  by  Mr.  Hunt  of  Detroit  t 
some  of  us  were  without  shoes  and  coats;  and 
we  lived  upon  potatoes  and  turnips  just  as 
we  could  pick  them  up  as  we  passed  by  farms* 
This  part  of  the  journey,  from  Dalton's  to 
Burlington  Heights,  was,  perhaps,  the  most 
painful  of  any ;  not  being  permitted  whilst 
at  Detroit  to  take  much  exercise,  and  being 
forced  on  almost  beyond  our  strength,  ren- 
dered it  painful  beyond  expression.  And  that 
Was  not  all:  the  officer  of  the  guard,  being  a 
churlish  and  tyranical  man  by  nature,  failed 
not  to  make  use  of  the  little  brief  power  com- 
mitted to  him  for  the  occasion,  to  make  our 
sufferings  the  mc^e  insupportable.  It  seemed 
to  afford  him  a  pleasure  to  "add  affliction  to 
our  bonds."  On  some  occasions,  after  travel- 
ling hard  all  day  in  the  rain,  and  having  no 

other  lodging  but  a  barn  or  stable,  we  had 

10* 


.)'■ 


i:  .  «' 


'^  :!■'■{  .*< 


4M 


114 


AtHEritON's  liARftAtlVJK. 


somedifficulty  in  getting  fireenough, or  getting 
admittance  to  it,  sufficient  to  dry  our  clothe*. 
On  this  part  of  the  jou  ^y,  in  addition  to 
suffering  from  the  cold  rail.. ,  and  from  being 
compelled  to  lie  down  in  our  wet  clothes,  we 
were  almost  literally  starved.  On  leaving 
the  vessel  on  the  Thames,  I  found  a  canister 
which  had  been  emptied  of  the  shot;  this  I 
took  with  me,  which  served  to  cook  our  po- 
tatoes, turnips,  and  peas,  when  we  could  get 
them,  and  when  our  cruel  commander  would 
give  us  time  for  it;  but  to  add  still  more  to 
our  inconvenience,  one  of  the  Indian  guard, 
on  returning  from  Burlington  Heights,  stole 
even  that  from  me.  This  was  done  by  strat- 
agem, (and,  by-the-by,  the  Indians  are  not 
slow  at  it.)  As  some  of  them  had  to  return 
from  that  place,  and  were  preparing  for  the 
journey,  one  of  the  party  come  to  me  and 
asked  the  loan  of  my  cooking  vessel.  I  very 
readily  loaned  it  to  him,  not  suspecting  any 
design;  but  finding  him  rather  tardy,  I  made 
application  for  it :  he  gave  me  to  understand 
that  he  was  not  done  with  it;  and  being  com- 
pelled to  march  immediately,  I  had  to  leave 
it  behind.  We  sometimes  had  pickeled  pork, 
which  I  generally  eat  raw.  The  people  in 
that  country  raised  peas,  which  they  mowed 


ATHBllTON's   NARRATIVE. 


116 


we 


and  put  away  vines  and  all  together  for  their 
cattle.  We  would,  when  lodging  in  barns 
and  stables,  make  beds  of  these,  and  shell  out 
and  eat  tho  peas,  and  also  take  some  along 
with  us  to  eat  by  the  way. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  notice  all  the  partic- 
ulars of  this  painful  march,  from  the  Thames 
to  York,  and  from  York  lo  Kingston.  It  was 
almost  an  uninterrupted  scene  of  suffering 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end.  The  officer 
of  the  guard  seemed  unwilling  to  show  any 
kindness  himself,  or  that  any  one  else  should 
show  us  any.  The  remembrance  of  these 
things,  though  twenty  six  years  have  rolled 
between,  produces  a  kind  of  horror  in  my 
soul  even  at  this  hour.  Here  is  the  wav  that 
a  company  of  ragged,  naked,  and  starved, 
Kentucky  boys  were  driven  through  the  coun- 
try to  be  gazed  upon  and  laughed  at  by  the 
inhabitants  of  the  villages  and  towns  through 
which  we  passed. 

When  we  reached  York,  we  were  closely 
confined  in  jail  until  another  guard  was  ap- 
pointed to  take  us  on  to  Kingston.  This  was 
one  of  the  most  filthy  prise  ns  that  I  ever  saw. 
Here  they  had  a  difliculty  in  obtaining  a  new 
guard:  the  one  which  brought  us  to  this 
place  from  the  river  Thames  consisted  chief" 


116 


AtIlfiRTON*S   NARRAT1V£. 


Jy  of  Indians,  and  as  they  were  not  willing 
to  proceed  any  farther,  the  officer  had  to  look 
for  some  of  the  most  vigilant  soldiers  to  take 
their  place.  We  found  all  along  that  they 
were  not  willing  to  risk  us  with  a  guard  of 
British  soldiers  until  we  arrived  at  this  point, 
when  they  supposed  there  would  be  less  dan* 
ger  of  an  escape. 

We  tarried  several  days  at  York,  and  then 
took  the  road  to  Kingston;  and  the  farther 
we  went  the  worse  the  travelling  became, 
the  weather  colder,  and  our  clothing  more 
ragged,  &c. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  a  widow  lady 
who  resided  between  York  and  Kingston* 
She  took  all  the  prisoners  into  her  house, 
treated  them  kindly,  supplied  all  their  wants, 
and  in  every  respect  showed  a  kind  and  feel- 
ing heart.  If  I  ever  knew  her  name,  I  have 
forgotten  it:  I  should  like  to  record  it  here. 

When  we  came  to  Kingston  we  were  again 
put  in  a  filthy  jail.  It  was  now  about  the 
first  of  'November,  and  we  were  allowed  ve- 
ry little  fire,  and  our  clothing  so  thin,  that  we 
had  to  shiver  it  out  the  best  way  we  could. 
Our  spirits  remained  unsubdued,  and  we  felt 
cordially  to  despise  that  tyranny  which  heap- 
ed suffering  upon  us.     We  rejoiced  that  it 


atherton's  narrative. 


ir 


was  in  defence  of  dear  liberty  that  these  af- 
flictions had  fallen  upon  us ;  and  we  hoped 
by  some  means  soon  to  enjoy  our  liberty 


agam. 


The  British  troops  at  this  place  were  in  re- 
gular drilling.  The  infantry  and  artillery 
were  daily  employed  in  firing  at  targets.  My 
attention  was  specially  drawn  to  their  man- 
ner of  shooting  at  a  target,  made  of  an  emp- 
ty barrel  placed  out  in  the  lake.  This  was 
done  that  they  might,  with  the  greater  cer- 
tainty, fire  upon  a  vessel  as  it  approached 
the  town.  We  supposed  that  they  were  in 
expectation  of  an  attack  from  the  Yankee 
fleet  upon  lake  Ontario.  From  Kingston  we 
started  to  Montreal  in  open  boats;  if  possible 
this  was  yet  worse  than  travelling  by  land, 
for  we  could  take  no  exercise  to  keep  our- 
selves warm.  The  rains  that  fell  upon  us 
now,  appeared  as  cold  as  during  any  part  of 
winter  in  Kentucky,  and  we  were  still  in  our 
thin  clothing.  The  boat  was  scarcely  large 
enough  to  contain  the  seventeen  prisoners, 
and  the  guard;  and  not  high  enough  for  us 
to  stand  up;  so  we  had  to  sit  down  on  the 
bottom  of  the  boat,  and  endure  the  cold  from 
morning  until  night.  I  think  we  slept  but 
once  in  a  house  between  Kingston  and  Mon- 


118 


atherton's  narrative. 


ilH 


m 


*M 


\M  *«' 


treal,  and  that  was  the  upper  room  of  an  un- 
finished court  house,  where  we  had  a  small 
stove,  and  where  we  dried  our  few  rags  of 
clothing.  At  length  we  came  in  sight  of 
Montreal;  they  landed  us  above  the  town 
that  they  might  march  us  through  the  city, 
to  be  seen  as  a  rare  curiosity.  Word  had 
reached  the  town  before  us,  that  a  number 
of  Kentucky  prisoners  were  to  pass  through 
that  day;  and  it  appeared  that  the  whole 
city  had  collected  into  that  street  to  see  the 
great  sight.  The  windows  and  doors  were 
full  of  ladies,  manifesting  great  eagerness 
to  see  Kentuckians.  The  reader  may  per- 
haps imagine  my  feelings  at  this  time,  for  I 
shall  not  attempt  to  describe  them. 

We  were  now  taken  to  jail  as  usual,  where 
we  were  furnished  with  a  good  room,  and 
for  the  first  time  since  we  left  Detroit  our 
situation  was  somewhat  comfortable.  I  think 
we  remained  here  near'  two  weeks.  Our  old 
rags  of  clothes,  which  were  given  us  by  the 
British  soldiers,  proved  rather  an  annoyance 
to  us,  as  the  jail  was  warm  and  the  vermin 
began  to  multiply  in  great  numbers.  We 
had  no  change  of  raiment,  consequently  we 
had  no  washing  done;  thus  we  spent  the 
time  at  Montreal. 


atherton's  narrative. 


119 


As  before  remarked,  the  vermin  became 
very*  annoying — and  having  no  possible 
chance  of  avoiding  them,  I  fell  upon  the  plan 
of  turning  my  clothes  every  morning,  so  as  to 
keep  them  travelling. 

In  order  to  form  an  adequate  idea  of  these 
tormenters  of  the  human  family,  you  must 
be  shut  up  in  a  hot,  filthy  prison,  with  a  num- 
ber of  prisoners  clothed  in  filthy  rags,  and 
yourself  as  bad  as  any  of  them,  with  thous- 
ands and  millions  of  these  bosom  friends 
crawling  over  you.  If  that  would  not  make 
an  impression,  I  dont  know  what  would. 

A  right  regular  built  Yankee,  who  had 
been  but  recently  taken  upon  the  lines  not 
far  from  Montreal,  was  brought  into  the  pris- 
on a  few  days  previous  to  our  leaving  for 
Quebec.  He  was  discovered,  shortly  after 
his  arrival,  to  pick  one  of  those  troublers  of 
our  peace  from  his  white  shirt,  and  very  de- 
liberately lay  him  down  on  a  bench,  after 
which,  taking  a  small  chip  between  his  finger 
and  thumb,  succeeded  in  dispatching  him. 
This  manouvre  afforded  some  sport  for  some 
of  us  who  had  learned,  by  things  we  had  suf- 
fered, not  to  take  it  quite  so  tedious.  He 
was  told  that  he  would  soon  learn  to  kill 
them  without  a  chip. 


■V!>-  '■ 


I  %  i 


120 


atherton's  narrative. 


At  this  place  we  were  told  by  the  British 
that  we  were  eating  Yankee  beef — that  most 
of  their  supplies  came  from  the  States.  As 
it  is  not  my  business,  I  will  forbear  censuring; 
and  will  content  myself  with  barely  stating 
facts.  These  things  occur  very  frequently  all 
along  the  line  between  Canada  and  the  Uni- 
ted States  in  time  of  war;  and  men  who 
profess  great  patriotism  are  sometimes  found 
to  be  engaged  in  it.  Such  patriotism  as  this 
would  scarcely  be  found  in  Kentucky. 

We  left  for  Quebec  in  a  steam  boat,  the 
first  built  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  arrived 
there  in  about  twenty  four  hours.  The  jail 
here  was  less  comfortable  than  the  one  at 
Montreal.  We  were  literally  in  rags,  and 
remained  so  for  many  weeks;  we  had  an 
agent  whose  duty  it  was  to  see  that  we  were 
provided  for,  but  if  my  memory  serves  me, 
he  did  not  so  much  as  visit  the  prison  for 
nearly  three  weeks,  and  then  we  were  treat- 
ed by  him  like  so  many  slaves. 

After  so  long  a  time,  Gardner,  the  agent, 
furnished  each  of  us  with  a  suit  of  coarse 
clothing.  By  this  time  the  weather  had  be- 
come excessively  cold,  and  we  were  removed 
to  the  barracks  until  a  prison  could  be  pre- 
pared for  us  upon  Cape  Diamond,  where  we 


ATHERTON*S  NARRATIVE. 


121 


^principally  spent  the  time  whilst  we  remain- 
ed at  Quebec. 

After  we  removed  to  cape  Diamond  our 
number  was  greatly  increased.  Only  seven- 
teen Kentuckians  came  down  together  from 
Detroit ;  but  there  were  many  others  taken 
at  different  times  and  places;  some  sailors, 
but  mostly  they  were  regular  soldiers.  These 
had  been  confined  in  other  parts  of  the  jail, 
and  now,  when  collected  together,  we  num- 
bered say  ninety,  all  put  into  one  house  to- 
gether. Here  we  had  a  small  yard  where 
we  could  take  some  exercise;  this  was  a 
great  privilege  to  men  who  had  been  so  long 
in  close  confinement.  We  were  closely 
locked  up  at  night,  and  generally  under  a 
strict  guard.  The  windows  were  strongly 
grated,  and  we  had  only  light  from  one  side. 
Our  provisions  were  scanty  and  bad ;  I  suf- 
fered more  from  hunger  in  Quebec  than  dur- 
ing any  time  of  my  long  imprisonment.  It  was 
not  because  they  had  no  provisions,  but  be- 
cause they  chose  to  starve  us.  When  we  were 
in  Montreal  they  tauntingly  told  us  that  we 
were  eating  Yankee  beef — giving  us  to  un- 
derstand that  they  were  furnished  with  pro- 
visions from  the  United  States.  This  scanti- 
ness of  supply  continued  through  the  winter, 

11 


] 


tr 


fj    Jl<* 


i  m 


ii 


122 


athbrton's  narrative. 


;,6>^*- 


and  we  were  under  the  necessity  of  enduring 
our  sufferings  as  we  could.  We  were  told 
that  British  prisoners  in  the  United  States 
fared  worse  than  we  did.  Our  wood  was 
birch,  and  it  served  a  double  purpose;  for 
we  burned  the  wood,  and  made  tea  of  the 
bark — this  was  all  the  tea  or  coffee  which 
we  drank  in  the  city  of  Quebec. 

The  agent  allowed  us  to  draw  each  a  few 
dollars  in  money ;  with  this  we  bought  arti- 
cles from  those  who  visited  our  prison.  We 
were  not  very  economical  with  our  money  ; 
it  lasted  but  a  short  time. 

Some  of  the  prisoners  were  always  forming 
plans  of  escape,  but  could  never  matui'e  them. 
At  one  time  we  were  well  nigh  an  elopement, 
but  one  proved  a  traitor,  and  informed  the 
British  officer  of  the  design.  The  traitor  had 
been  in  the  regular  service,  and  was  taken  a 
prisoner  somewhere  between  Canada  and  the 
United  States.  Some  offers  were  made  to 
him,  and  he  meanly  enlisted  as  a  British  sol- 
dier,  and  divulged  every  thing  which  he 
supposed  would  make  our  condition  more 
miserable.  He  told  of  the  contemplated  es- 
cape, and  who  were  the  most  active  as  the 
leaders.  On  the  next  day  the  keeper  of  the 
prison  came  up,  and  upon  examination  find- 


athbrton's  narrative. 


123 


ing  that  the  account  was  true,  and  ascertain- 
ing who  had  cut  the  holes,  he  sent  the  poor 
fellows  to  the  dungeon,  where  they  were 
doomed  to  remain  for  two  weeks  upon  half 
rations.  After  this  pennance  they  were  per- 
mitted to  return  to  their  former  place.  This 
broke  up  all  designs  of  escape,  as  we  were 
closely  watched  during  the  remainder  of  our 
stay. 

After  the  fellow  above  named  enlisted, 
strong  efforts  were  made  to  induce  others  to 
follow  his  example.  In  order  to  this,  they 
sent  one  of  the  officers  who  had  command 
of  the  guard  that  brought  us  from  York  to 
Kingston,  supposing  that  because  we  were 
acquainted  with  him,  he  would  therefore  have 
more  influence  with  us.  He  was,  however, 
the  last  man  that  should  have  been  sent ;  we 
knew  him  to  be  sure,  but  we  knew  him  to  be 
a  hard  hearted  tyrant,  who  had  starved  and 
drove  us  nearly  to  death.  We  were  displeas- 
ed at  seeing  him  come  into  the  prison,  and  no 
sooner  had  he  made  known  his  errand,  than 
we  gave  him  to  understand  flatly  and  plainly 
that  deserters  were  not  to  be  found  among 
us.  We  expressed  our  detestation  at  the 
conduct  of  the  one  who  had  turned  tory  and 
traitor,  and  told  him  if  there  was  no  other 


■.ti 


^ 


,»•«, 


l.iiS 


;l 


i« 


m^:, 


124 


ATHERTON*S   NARRATIVE. 


way  of  a  release  from  prison,  that  we  would 
greatly  prefer  to  lie  in  the  fort  until  we  were 
starved  and  perished  to  death.  We  more- 
over gave  him  to  understand  that  we  would 
not  be  insulted  in  that  manner,  and  that  he 
would  do  well  to  leave  the  fort — and  some  of 
the  boys  went  so  far  as  to  take  their  tin  pans, 
and  beating  upon  them  with  their  spoons, 
actually  drummed  him  out  of  the  prison.  By 
this  experiment  they  were  fully  satisfied  that 
it  was  a  most  fruitless  business  to  try  to  in- 
duce us  to  leave  our  happy  government  and 
join  theirs.  It  was  often  reported  that  we 
would  be  sent  to  Dartmoor  prison,  in  Eng- 
land, and  there  kept  as  hostages,  until  the 
differences  between  the  two  governments 
should  be  adjusted.  We  sometimes  thought 
perhaps  it  might  be  so,  but  we  scarcely  be- 
lieved any  thing  which  they  told  us;  their  ob- 
ject no  doubt  was  to  alarm,  with  the  fear  of 
crossing  the  Atlantic,  that  they  might  the 
more  easily  pursuade  us  to  desert.  Although 
this  thing  bore  a  very  gloomy  aspect,  and 
was  often  a  subject  of  serious  conversation 
among  us,  yet  we  were  determined,  and 
strengthened  each  other  in  the  purpose,  not 
to  desert,  but  to  endure  the  worst,  and  ba 
true  to  our  country. 


ATHERTON'S  NARRATIVE. 


125 


About  this  time  we  learned  that  Tecum- 
seh,  the  great  Indian  warrior,  had  fallen  in 
the  battle  at  Moravian  town.  His  familv 
was  at  this  time  in  Quebec ;  they,  in  com- 
pany with  some  other  Indians,  came  to  see 
us,  and  manifested  great  curiosity  in  taking 
a  good  look  at  Kentuckians — considered  by 
some  the  rarest  beings  upon  the  earth. 

Often  numbers  of  people  came  to  the  pris- 
on to  see  us — one  man,  after  looking  at  us 
for  a  length  of  time,  manifested  great  disap- 
pointment, and  said,  "  Why,  they  look  just 
like  other  people."  Jt  seemed  from  this  that 
an  idea  prevailed  that  we  were  wild  men,  or 
an  order  of  beings  that  scarcely  belonged  to 
this  earth. 

During  the  time  that  we  remained  here 
Colonel  Lewis  and  Major  Madison  visited  us. 
Of  the  latter,  the  Vice  President  of  the  Uni- 
ted States  lately  said  in  the  Senate,  that  he 
was  a  man  "of  rare  patriotism — the  most  be- 
loved of  all  the  public  men  of  his  State — 
the  best  among  the  best — *lhe  bravest  of  the 
brave' — who  died  with  never  fading  laurels 
upon  his  brow."  They  were  accompanied 
by  one  or  two  British  officers.  After  they 
had  duly  examined  into  our  situation,  Colo- 
nel Lewis  encouraged  us  to  bear  our  priva- 
11* 


rtfimm 


!',  J:,    *'  7 


^i 


!;&:"  i'*«s 


126 


atherton's  warratjve. 


lions  and  sufferings  in  the  spirit  of  true  sol- 
diers— saying  "that  it  belonged  to  the  soil  of 
Kentucky  to  be  firm."  While  this  exhorta- 
tion of  the  Colonel  was  received  by  us  with 
great  approbation,  it  evidently  was  received 
with  indignation  by  the  British  officers.  This 
made  no  manner  of  difference  with  Colonel 
Lewis,  who  proceeded  to  make  such  remarks^ 
and  gave  us  such  advice,  as  he  believed  were 
for  our  comfort.  I  thought  that  the  British 
were  inclined  to  press  their  rigid  military 
rules  upon  Kentuckians  with  more  rigor  than 
upon  others.  They  rarely  spoke  to  us,  and 
when  they  did  it  was  in  a  manner  so  haughty 
that  we  only  felt  the  more  indignant  and  hos- 
tile toward  them.  We  would  not  conform 
to  those  terms  of  respect  which  they  exacted 
from  their  own  soldiers.  Our  feelings,  and 
callings  in  life  had  been  so  very  different  from 
those  of  British  soldiers,  that  we  felt  as  if  we 
lived  in,  and  breathed,  a  different  air. 

Toward, the  latter  part  of  the  winter  we 
were,  after  much  entreatv  from  Lewis  and 
Madison,  permitted  to  write  to  our  friends. 
Our  letters  were  carefully  read  by  the  oflli- 
cers,  and  every  word  rigidly  examined.  I 
now  wrote  to  my  friends,  and  this  was  the 
first  certain  information  that  they  received  ef 


ATHBRTON^S  NARRATIVE. 


127 


my  having  survived  the  battles  and  dangers 
which  we  had  passed  through,  although  I 
had  now  been  away  from  honne  about  eigh- 
teen months.  Notices  had  been  in  the  pub- 
lic prints,  written  by  Hunt,  of  Detroit,  that 
prisoners  had  been  carried  on  towards 
Quebec — but  he  had  no  further  knowledge  of 
us,  or  what  would  be  our  fate. 

Perhaps  it  was  better  that  we  were  not 
permitted  to  give  a  history  of  our  sufferings ; 
it  would  only  have  more  deeply  afflicted  our 
friends,  and  added  nothing  to  our  relief. 

I  wish  here  to  record,  that  the  news  of  our 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  escape  reached,  by 
some  means,  the  ears  of  Colonel  Lewis  and 
Major  Madison,  and  they  being  desirous  to 
obtain  the  particulars,  requested  that  two  of 
our  number  might  be  allowed  to  visi*,  their 
quarters,  which  were  not  far  off.  Their  re- 
quest  was  granted,  and  William  McMillan 
and  myself  were  selected  to  visit  them.  We 
were  conducted  by  a  guard,  and  very  closely 
watched  and  listened  to.  We  told  them  of 
our  attempt  and  defeat.  They  gave  it  as 
their  opinion  that  we  could  not  make  a  suc- 
cessful escape  during  the  winter  season,  and 
that  we  ought  not  to  attempt  it.  They  told 
us  of  the  great  difficulty  we  would  meet  io 


-}■ 


A.' 


\4'.>^  ■  < 


V     ,t 


•■i. 


*  ^ 


I*)'-! 


'^'  1 


m 


IMi 


128 


atiIbrton's  narrative. 


travelling  through  the  snow  in  that  country, 
also  in  crossing  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  even 
if  we  could,  undiscovered,  pass  the  guards. 
However,  in  case  we  should  make  the  at- 
tempt, they  gave  us  some  directions  touching 
the  route  that  we  should  take  if  we  succeed- 
ed in  clearing  the  sentinels  and  crossing  the 
river. 

While  writing  this,  I  am  reminded  of  an 
attempt  made  by  some  prisoners  to  escape 
about  the  time  that  we  came  to  Quebec. 
They  cut  the  bars  out  of  the  prison  windows 
of  the  second  story  of  the  house,  and  let 
themselves  down  by  means  of  their  blankets. 
They  were  successful  in  passing  the  sentinels, 
and  crossing  the  river,  and  prospered  all  the 
way  until  they  came  near  the  American  lines. 
Now,  thinking  that  they  were  out  of  the 
reach  of  danger,  they  halted  to  take  rest  and 
refreshment,  and  feeling  like  birds  let  out  of 
a  cage,  they  felt  that  they  might  safely  have 
a  little  spree;  but  just  as  they  were  in  the 
midst  of  their  frolic,  the  British  pursuers 
came  suddenly  upon  them,  and  took  them  all 
by  surprise.  They  were  not  prepared  to  de- 
fend themselves,  and  had  no  opportunity  to 
fly;  therefore  they  had  quietly  to  go  back  to 
Quebec,  and  to  prison,  where  they  suffered 


ATHERTON'S  NARRATIVE. 


129 


the  deep  mortification  of  a  failure,  and  the 
renewed  weight  of  British  oppression. 

Some  time  before  we  heard  the  good  news 
of  a  general  exchange  of  prisoners,  I  had  a 
violent  attack  of  billious  fever.  I  laid  sever- 
al days  in  the  prison  before  1  suffered  the  old 
turnkey  to  know  my  situation.  When  it 
was  communicated  to  him,  he  sent  an  old 
man  to  bleed  me  and  to  give  me  some  physic, 
which  gave  me  no  relief;  I  was  therefore  re- 
moved about  a  mile  from  town,  to  the  hospi- 
tal, where  they  bled  and  physiced  me  enough. 
I  do  not  recollect  how  long  I  remained  at 
the  hospital,  but  I  remember  that  I  was  there 
when  it  was  announced  that  all  prisoners 
were  to  be  exchanged,  and  that  all  who  were 
able  to  go  were  to  be  sent  away  immediately. 
This  was  better  to  me  than  all  the  medicine 
in  Canada.  The  hope  of  seeing  my  country 
and  my  home,  rushed  in  upon  my  mind  with 
refreshing  power.  I  told  the  Doctor  that  I 
co'Jd  not  stay  any  longer  in  the  hospital — 
that  I  must  start  if  I  died  on  the  way.  At 
first  he  opposed  my  going ;  seeing  my  resolu- 
tion, at  length  he  consented.  The  idea  of  be- 
ing kept  behind  was  like  death  to  me  sure 
enough.  For  some  days  before  this  news 
reached  us  I  had  been  slowly  recovering,  but 


130 


atiierton's  narrative. 


was  yet  barely  able  to  walk  when  I  left  the 
hospital  to  return  to  the  prison,  where  I 
found  the  boys  making  preparations  to  leave 
for  the  United  States.  We  were  to  ascend 
the  St.  Lawrence  in  a  vessel  belonging  to  the 
British.  It  was  in  the  month  of  May  when 
we  left  this  gloomy  prison,  where  we  had 
spent  a  miserable  winter  and  spring.  The 
recollection  of  these  times  are  horrible  to  my 
mind  until  this  hour.  I  am  sorry  that  I  ever 
fell  into  British  hands.  It  appears  that  the 
British  officers  were  perfectly  destitute  of  hu- 
man feelings,  so  far  as  we  were  concerned. 
I  have  no  means  of  knowing  generally  their 
characters,  and  I  surely  have  no  wish  to  de- 
fame them  generally;  I  speak  only  of  those 
iato  whose  hands  I  fell,  and  from  whom  I  re- 
ceived such  little  kindness. 

May  had  not  brought  warm  weather  in 
that  country ;  heaps  of  drifted  snow  were  to 
be  seen  in  the  mountains  north  of  Quebec; 
and  the  north-western  winds  were  keen  and 
chilling,  especially  to  me  in  my  feeble  state. 
After  we  boarded  our  little  vessel,  we  re- 
mained several  days,  I  know  not  what  for, 
in  an  uncomfortable  situation ;  with  but  lit- 
tle fire,  and  exposed  to  the  incessantly  blow- 
ing winds.    This  increased  again  the  disease 


ATHBRTON'8  NARRATIVE. 


131 


under  which  I  had  been  laboring,  so  that  I 
now  had  chill  and  fever  every  day.  I  was 
barely  able  to  walk,  and  more  than  one  thou- 
sand miles  from  home,  without  money, 
clothes,  or  friends  that  were  able  to  help ; 
yet  my  spirit  did  not  quail  for  a  moment, — 1 
hoped  somehow  to  get  through.  At  length 
we  were  put  into  another  vessel,  and  set 
sail  up  the  St.  Lawrence.  Thus  we  contin- 
ued until  we  came  to  the  mouth  of  the  river 
Sorrell,  which  connects  lake  Champlain  with 
the  St.  Lawrence.  We  ascended  this  river 
for  a  considerable  distance  in  the  same  ves- 
sel, when  we  were  placed  in  open  boats  and 
carried  across  the  line.  It  was  said,  with 
what  truth  I  pretend  not  to  say,  that  some 
of  the  British  soldiers  who  guarded  us  made 
a  good  use  of  this  opportunity  and  deserted, 
and  left  a  land  of  oppression  for  a  land  of  lib- 
erty and  plenty. 

We  were  set  on  the  shore  fourteen  miles 
below  Plattsburg,  and  then  left  to  take  care 
of  ourselves,  having  neither  money  nor  food, 
and  almost  naked,  and  some  of  us  sick.  We 
however,  used  to  trials,  went  forward  to 
Plattsburg — which  I  reached  with  the  ut- 
most difficulty,  shaking  one  part  of  the  day, 
and  burning  with  fever  the  other.    We  had 


I       >     -I' 


WA 


132 


ATHERTON'S   NARRATIVE. 


all  been  so  long  in  confinement  that  we  trav- 
elled slowly,  and  this  enabled  me  to  keep  up 
until  we  arrived  at  a  h.rge  encampment  of  the 
American  army,  a  short  distance  above 
Plattsburg  on  the  lake.  ^ 

Our  situation  was  communicated  to  the 
General,  who  promised  to  make  provision  for 
us,  by  giving  us  written  passports,  and  author- 
izing us  to  draw  rations  on  the  road  wherev- 
er we  could  find  any  belonging  to  the  United 
States — which  was  all  that  we  could  expect, 
or  all  that  we  asked,  as  he  had  no  authority 
to  pay  us  money.  We  waited  a  day  or  two 
for  the  fulfilment  of  this  promise,  when  we 
renewed  our  application,  telling  him  our  ne- 
cessities, how  long  we  had  been  from  home, 
where  we  had  been  taken  prisoners,  our 
anxiety  to  pursue  our  journey — but  all  to  no 
effect ;  we  only  obtained  promises.  Having 
renewed  our  petitions  for  a  week,  we  began 
to  despair  of  success,  and  thought  of  seeking 
help  from  some  other  quarter.  We  were 
now  satisfied  that  it  was  the  purpose  of  the 
commanding  oflicer  to  detain  us  there,  place 
difliculties  in  our  way  of  going  home,  that 
thereby  we  might  be  induced  to  enlist ;  he 
supposed  that  we  would  not  certainly  under- 
take such  a  journey  on  foot,  without  money 


atherton's  narrative. 


133 


or  passports.  This  did  alarm  one  or  two  of 
the  company,  who  took  the  bounty  and  en- 
listed for  five  years.  The  rest  of  us  now  re- 
solved to  make  a  start  towards  old  Kentucky; 
but  before  we  left  we  made  one  more  unsuc- 
cessful effort  tc  obtain  the  necessary  papers 
from  the  General.  By  this  time  a  kind  and 
noble  hearted  young  Lieutenant,  whose  name 
was  Frederick,  became  interested  in  our  wel- 
fare, and  wrote  us  a  passport  to  draw  upon 
any  supplies  belonging  to  the  Government. 
This  answered  a  good  purpose  where  the 
keepers  were  young  and  ignorant,  and  did 
not  understand  their  business ;  but  our  order 
was  often  protested. 

Notwithstanding  my  fatigue  and  exposure 
to  the  night  air,  and  a  chill  every  day,  my 
strencrth  had  much  increased,  yet  I  feared  the 
fatigues  of  the  long  journey  before  us;  but 
to  my  astonishment  I  had  the  last  chill  on  the 
evening  before  we  left  the  encampment — I 
never  had  another 

On  a  beautiful  morning,  about  the  first  of 

June,  1814,  we  left  the  American  army  near 

Plattsburg,  turning  our  faces  towards  home 

with  light  hearts  and  little   money.     I  had 

but  twelve  and  a  half  cents,  and  I  believe  I 

was  nearly  as  wealthy  as  anv  of  the  company. 

12 


mm 


134 


atherton's  narrative. 


And  now  I  feel  utterly  at  a  loss  to  describe 
my  feelings.  Until  now  we  did  not  feel  en- 
tirely free;  though  in  the  American  camp, 
we  were  under  sentinels  and  military  res- 
traint. We  had  been  for  so  long  a  time  in 
prison,  and  suffering,  that  we  seemed  to  have 
reached  a  new  world  almost.  We  little 
thought  of  the  journey  that  was  before  us, 
but  tr!ked  cheerfully  of  our  situation,  as  we 
passed  many  beautiful  farms  in  high  promise, 
sijjated  upon  the  sides  of  the  lake.  Above 
all,  we  felt  hearts  of  sincere  gratitude  to  a 
kind  Providence,  who  had  delivered  us  out  of 
the  hands  of  wild  and  ferocious  savages,  and 
hard  hearted  tyrants,  and  had  again  brought 
our  feet  to  stand  upon  the  soil  of  freedom. 

We  made  our  way  up  the  lake  on  the  right 
bank  until  we  came  to  the  ferry,  which  we 
found  some  difficulty  in  crossing,  because  we 
had  no  money  to  pay  our  passage.  We  told 
the  keeper  the  true  story  of  our  errand — 
where  we  had  been,  and  where  we  were  go- 
ing :  after  some  hesitancy  he  took  us  all  over 
without  any  pay.  We  then  took  the  road 
leading  to  the  head  of  lake  Champlain;  some 
of  the  people  along  this  road  were  kind,  but 
others  looked  upon  us  with  suspicion.  Our 
appearance  was  very   shabby  indeed — the 


atiierton's  narrative. 


135 


coarse  clothes  which  we  received  in  Quebec, 
the  winter  past,  were  all  in  rags  and  dirt, 
and  having  no  possible  opportunity  of  get- 
ting a  new  supply,  we  were  compelled  to  ap- 
pear before  all  in  our  way  in  this  garb.  Our 
rags  may  have  been  an  advantage  to  us,  as 
they  attracted  notice,  and  curiosity  would 
induce  many  to  ask  us  questions,  and  thus  we 
would  have  an  opportunity  of  telling  our  his- 
tory, and  so  gain  something  to  sustain  us  up- 
on our  journey.  This  afforded  us  a  good  op- 
portunity of  ascertaining  the  dispositions  of 
men.  Many  were  suitably  affected  with  our 
situation,  and  offered  relief;  but  other  cold 
blooded  animals  had  no  compassion — they 
lived  within  and  for  themselves — and  we 
found  some  so  destitu#  of  all  sense  of  res- 
pect as  even  to  insult  us. 

After  traveUing  together  a  short  distance, 
we  began  to  find  that  it  would  be  with  diffi- 
culty that  we  could  travel  through  that  coun- 
try without  money.  We  consulted  together 
what  way  would  be  the  best  for  us  to  take, 
and  concluded  to  separate,  as  beggars  had 
better  go  in  small  companies.  When  we 
parted,  it  was  with  the  understanding  that 
we  would  try  to  meet  again  at  Oleann 
Point,  on  the  Alleghany  river.    Thus  we  bid 


>.\A 


i't«. 


r-^t* , 


136 


ATHERTON'S    NARRATIVE. 


each  other  farewell,  and  broke  off  into  com- 
panies of  four.  The  company  to  which  I  be- 
longed took  the  road  leading  from  the  head 
of  the  lake  to  Utica,  in  the  State  of  New 
York.  This  road  was  mostly  turn  piked,, 
which  made  the  travelling  worse  for  us,  as 
we  were  nearly  barefooted,  and  our  feet 
soon  became  sore,  so  that  our  stages  were 
short.  It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  re- 
late the  particulars  of  this  journey  through 
the  State  of  New  York;  but  one  thing  truth 
compels  me  to  state,  and  that  is,  we  suffered 
more  from  hunger  while  passing  through  this 
State  than  in  all  the  rest  of  the  wav  from 
Quebec  to  Kentucky.  We  found  the  people 
generally  either  too  proud  (  r  too  stingy  to  give 
us  food,  or  to  treat  utfike  human  beings.  In 
passing  through  the  little  towns  and  villages 
our  appearance  w^ould  immediately  attract 
attention,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  people 
would  gather  around  us  in  great  numbers;, 
they  would  ask  us  a  number  of  questions, 
which  we  would  fully  answer,  though  they 
often  suspected  us  for  being  u^.:  — *ers.  We 
occasionally  found  in  these  companies,  per- 
sons who  were  touched  by  our  appearance 
and  story,  so  they  would  turn  out  and  raise 
us  a  few  shillings  to  help  us  on  our  journey.. 


athkrton's  narrative. 


137 


The  money  thus  raised  we  considered  as 
common  property,  to  be  used  for  the  benefit 
of  all.  We  made  it  last  as  long  as  possible, 
by  always  purchasing  the  cheapest  articles 
of  food,  and  never  spending  any  unnece  a- 
rily. 

When  we  arrived  at  Utica  we  found  a  re- 
cruiting party  there ;  and  here  I  picked  up  a 
pair  of  old  shoes  which  had  been  thrown 
away  by  the  soldiers ;  these  enabled  me  to 
travel  on  the  turnpike  with  more  ease  and 
speed.  We  found  but  few  who  were  willing 
either  to  feed  or  lodge  us  without  pay,  though 
we  only  asked  to  lie  upon  the  jfloor.  Some 
absolutely  refused  to  give  us  any  shelter  at 
all.  I  will  here  relate  a  case,  and  if  I  knew 
the  name  of  the  individual  I  would  record  it 
as  a  warning  to  any  one  who  might  be  tempt- 
ed to  treat  any  poor  sufferer  in  like  manner. 
After  travelling  hard  all  the  day,  we  called 
at  a  house  and  asked  the  man  the  favor  to 
stay  and  lie  upon  the  floor  until  morning, 
at  the  same  time  informing  him  that  we  had 
been  prisoners  for  some  lime,  and  that  we 
were  on  our  way  to  Kentucky,  our  native 
State,  and  that  we  would  not  ask  him  for  any 
thing  else.    He  told  us   pointedly  that  we 

Qould  not  sleep  in  his  house.    We  then  asked. 
12* 


h 


138 


ATHERTON^S  NARRATIVE. 


to  sleep  in  the  shop,{he  was  a  wagon  makerj) 
this  he  also  refused ;  we  then  told  him  th  t 
we  were  much  fatigued,  and  would  be  glad 
to  have  permission  to  lie  down  in  his  barn* 
He  then  refused  in  the  most  positive  manner, 
telling  us  that  there  was  a  tavern  about  a 
mile  ahead,  and  as  they  had  the  profit  of 
travellers,  they  should  have  the  trouble  also^ 
We  left  him  to  his  conscience,  and  walked 
on  toward  the  tavern,  feeling  that  we  were 
strangers  indeed  in  a  strange  land,  driven 
from  door  to  door,  fatigued  and  hungry, 
without  one  cent  in  our  pockets,  knowing 
not  where  we  should  find  shelter;  and  re- 
turning too  from  fighting  the  battles  of  the 
country  we  were  now  passing  through  so 
poorly  requited.  At  length  we  came  to  the 
tavern,  and  by  stating  our  misfortunes  we 
succeeded  in  gaining  permission  to  sleep  on 
the  floor.  Soon  after  our  arrival  supper  was 
announced,  but  nothing  was  said  to  us.  We 
laid  down  on  the  floor  of  the  bar  room  hun- 
gry, tired  and  sleepy.  If  we  had  received 
such  treatment  in  an  enemy's  country,  we 
would  not  have  been  surprised,  but  we  had 
been  out  fighting  for  the  liberties  of  this 
very  people — this  made  our  sufferings  the 
more  acute.     We  made  an  early  start  next* 


atiierton's  narrative. 


13:9 


morning,  supposing  that  the  chance  for  break- 
fast would  be  as  gloomy  as  that  of  the  supper 
had  been.  We  determined  to  go  forward  as 
far  as  possible,  hoping  soon  to  find  another 
kind  of  people,  who  would  help  us. 

When  we  applied  in  the  evening  for  per- 
mission to  lie  in  the  barn,  and  were  refused, 
there  was  a  gentleman  present  who  overtook 
us  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  and  reminded 
us  of  the  treatment,  and  that  he  was  present; 
he  gave  each  of  us  some  money — he  said  that 
he  had  no  money  when  he  first  saw  us. 

Not  far  from  this  hard  place,  we  met  a 
man  of  quite  a  different  feeling.  Near  sun- 
set we  were  passing  his  house,  when  he  call'- 
ed  to  us  and  asked  if  we  had  anv  monev ; 
we  told  him  we  had  none:  "Well,  you  had 
better  stop  here  with  me  and  stay  all  night, 
for  the  man  who  keeps  the  next  house  is  a 
tory,  and  will  not  permit  you  to  stay  with- 
out money."  I  need  hardly  say  that  we  ac- 
ceeded  to  his  proposition.  We  were  treated 
with  kindness  aad  hospitality,  and  for  once 
fared  well.  Th^s  was  a  set-off  to  some  for- 
mer cases. 

After  we  had  passed  through  the  thickly 
settled  parts  of  New  York,  we  came  to  the 
Genoessee  country,  which  was  at  that  tim.e 


■ 


I,,  ■  f;  fit;  J-  *  !  fl     '    ■       ■  1 

rite'-::  ::^ 


140 


ATHERTO'l's   NARRATIVE. 


but  thinly  inhabited.  We  were  now  told  that 
we  would  find  serious  difficulties  in  passing 
on  without  money;  on  the  day  that  we  en- 
tered what  was  called  the  wilderness  we 
were  entirely  destitute,  and  had  very  serious 
fears  of  suffering  more  than  we  had  yet  been 
called  to  endure;  but  as  our  fears  were  rising 
to  the  highest  pitch,  we  unexpectedly  met  a 
young  officer  belonging  to  the  United  States 
service ;  he  inquired  into  our  history  careful- 
ly, and  becoming  satisfied  with  the  account 
which  we  gave  him  of  our  capture  and  suf- 
ferings, he  kindly,  gave  us  one  dollar  a  piece, 
which  was  sufficient,  with  rigid  economy,  to 
carry  us  through  the  most  dreaded  part  of 
the  wilderness. 

It  may  appear  to  the  reader  that  I  have 
given  a  very  cheerless  and  rigid  account  of 
the  people  along  the  road  that  we  traveled 
through  the  State  of- New  York;  I  am  cer- 
tain of  the  truth  of  the  history,  for  a  man 
starving  knows  when  he  receives  any  thing 
to  eat,  and  also  when  he  is  refused.  I  am  as 
certain  of  this  part  of  the  history,  as  that  I 
was  in  the  battle,  and  wounded  at  the  river 
Raisin.  Whether  we  fell  upon  the  only  nig- 
gardly people  that  lived  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  or  whether,  the  people  were  mostly. 


atherton's  narrative. 


141 


tories  there,  I  have  no  means  of  determining. 
It  may  be  asked  why  I  record  these  things? 
It  may  seem  harsh  to  speak  of  them;  it  was 
much  harsher  to  feel  them.  If  people  will 
sin  publicly,  and  drive  starving  begging  sol- 
diers from  their  doors  with  contempt,  those 
soldiers,  if  they  should  live  to  reach  home, 
and  should  write  an  account  of  their  trip, 
will  be  very»likely  to  refer  to  such  treatment. 
If  those  folks  are  yet  living,  a  sermon  upon 
**  be  careful  to  entertain  strangers,^^  might 
not  be  entirely  without  its  good  effects  upon 
them. 

After  passing  through  this  wilderness,  we 
began  to  draw  near  to  Oleann  Point,  the 
place  where  we  had  agreed  to  meet  again 
when  we  parted  at  the  head  of  lake  Cham- 
plain.  One  company  overtook  us  on  the 
same  day  that  we  arrived  at  Oleann.  Here 
we  had  intended  to  take  water,  but  we  could 
hear  of  no  craft  going  down  the  river.  Our 
money  was  gone,  and  provisions  were  scarce 
and  dear,  so  we  could  not  stay  long  here. 
Necessity,  the  mother  of  invention,  drove  us 
to  seek  out  some  way  of  getting  on.  We 
numbered  eight  persons  at  this  time;  I  re- 
member the  names  of  Philip  Burns,  Patrick 
Ewing,  Simon  Kenton,  Thomas  Bronaugh, 


'•  ■  s\ 


i.itf* 


!',      '-^  <■  ■      ^  rjl 


142 


atherton's  narrative. 


William  McMillan  and  Thomas  Whitlington^ 
At  length  we  concluded  to  build  a  raft  of 
slabs  that  we  found  lodged  against  a  bridge; 
so  we  all  went  to  work ;  having  walked  so 
far,  our  wind  was  pretty  good,  and  got  our 
raft  completed  by  sunset — on  Sunday  too. 
We  then  procured  some  bread,  and  set  sail 
down  the  river  a  little  before  dark,  not  know- 
ing what  was  before  us,  whether  there  were 
dangerous  passes,  or  falls  in  the  river — 
such  was  our  destitute  situation,  that  we 
were  compelled  to  go  on.  Our  provisions 
were  nearly  out,  and  Indians  chiefly  inhabit- 
ed the  country  along  the  river  down  towards 
Pittsburg.  During  the  night  we  had  some 
difficulty  in  passing  the  drift  at  the  short 
bends  that  are  in  the  Alleghany,  but  went  on 
tolerably  well  until  next  morning  about 
breakfast  lime.  I  had  laid  myself  down  upon 
the  dry  part  of  the  raft  and  fallen  asleep,  not 
having  slept  any  during  the  night,  as  there 
was  not  room  for  more  than  two  or  three  to 
lie  down  at  once.  We  now  came  in  contact 
with  a  driftwood,  and  the  current  was  so 
strong  that  the  raft  was  taken  under  almost 
instantly — we  scrambled  up  on  the  drift,  and 
after  some  difficulty  got  ashore.  The  raft 
came  out  below,  and  went  on  ;  and  thea  we, 


atherton's  Narrative. 


143 


were  left  on  foot  again,  among  the  Indians 
called  Corn  Planters.  Fortunately  for  us,  we 
had  taken  a  Yankee  passenger  aboard  our 
raft,  who  had  some  money  with  him,  with 
which  we  bought  a  canoe  from  an  Indian  in 
which  we  came  down  the  river  until  we 
reached  Pittsburg.  Before  we  reached  Pitts- 
burg we  met  a  recruiting  party  at  the  mouth 
of  French  creek ;  the  officer  was  very  kind 
— he  furnished  us  with  a  room  to  sleep  in — 
gave  us  flour  and  whiskey.  His  object  was 
to  enlist  some  of  us ;  we  did  not  tell  him  that 
we  would  not  enlist;  we  sat  up  however  and 
baked  bread  enough  whilst  the  others  were 
asleep  to  last  us  to  Pittsburg ;  and  before  the 
oflicer  was  out  of  his  bed  in  the  morning,  we 
were  paddling  on  towards  home. 

When  we  arrived  at  Pittsburg,  we  sold  the 
canoe  for  five  dollars,  and  purchased  bread, 
and  almost  immediately  took  passage  on  a 
salt  boat  bound  for  Kanawha.  But  whilst 
we  were  in  Pittsburg  we  there  saw  the  Brit* 
ish  soldiers  that  guarded  us  ut  Detroit  prison 
— they  had  been  taken  at  the  battle  of  the 
Thames — they  were  at  liberty  to  go  to  any 
part  of  the  town,  and  to  work  for  themselves. 
We  took  this  opportunity  to  remind  them  of 
the  difference  between  their  treatment  of  us, 


fjW 


^  ?ii^1 


til. 


'<>**' 


uh'  lit 

1,,,..  (j»  ^,. 


144 


ATinERTON's   NARRATIVE. 


and  our  treatment  toward  them ;  they  were 
compelled  to  acknowledge  the  truth,  and 
praised  our  officers  very  highly. 

We  paid  our  passage  upon  the  salt  boat, 
by  working  at  the  oars,  all  except  myself, 
who  was  the  cook  for  the  company.  When 
we  floated  down  as  far  as  Kanawha  we  were 
there  set  upon  the  shore,  and  were  once  more 
compelled  to  look  about  for  the  means  of  con- 
tinning  our  journey.  After  we  had  been 
there  a  few  hours  we  saw  a  raft  of  pine  plank 
floating  down  the  river ;  we  hailed  the  own- 
er, asked  for  a  passage,  and  were  taken 
aboard.  On  this  raft  I  floated  down  to  Mays- 
ville,  where,  thanks  to  a  superintending 
Providence,  I  once  again  set  my  feet  upon 
Kentucky  soil,  and  breathed  the  air  of  my 
native  State.  Now  I  was  almost  naked;  no 
person,  as  well  as  I  can  remember,  had  of- 
fered me  a  single  article  of  clothing  since  I 
left  Quebec.  I  had  exchanged  my  pantaloons, 
given  to  me  in  prison,  for  an  old  pair  which 
I  found  on  the  boat,  thrown  away  as  useless 
by  some  of  the  boatmen;  my  shirt  had,  by 
slow  degrees,  entirely  disappeared ;  I  had 
some  where  picked  up  an  old  coat  that  had 
been  the  property  of  some  regular  soldier— 


atherton's  narrative. 


145 


these  two  articles  constituted  my  wardrobe, 
entire — I  was  barefooted,  but  had  an  old  hat. 

My  companions  had  all  left  me  higher  up 
the  river,  and  gone  across  the  country  as  a 
nearer  way  home.  When  I  left  the  raft  and 
went  into  the  town  my  situation  excited  at- 
tention, and  soon  all  my  wants  were  supplied. 
Some  gave  the  stuff,  and  a  number  of  tailors 
joined,  and  in  a  few  hours  I  was  clothed,  and 
furnished  with  money  to  bear  my  expenses 
home.  I  felt  the  difference  here  between 
warm  and  cold  hearted  people.  My  anxiety 
was  great  to  pursue  my  journey,  so  I  as- 
cended the  steep  hill  that  hangs  around 
Maysville,  and  made  my  way  through 
Georgetown  and  i'rankfort,  to  Shelbyville, 
at  which  place  I  arrived  on  the  20th  day  of 
June,  A.  D.  1814. 

Here,  at  length,  after  an  absence  of  near- 
ly two  years,  during  all  of  which  time  I  had 
been  eocposed  to  sufferings,  daggers  and  pri- 
vations, not  having  slept  upon  a  bed  until 
my  return  to  my  native  land,  I  found  myself 
among  the  friends  of  my  childhood  and  my 
own  beloved  kindred.  I  had  left  them,  when 
a  mere  lad,  as  a  volunteer  soldier  in  the  com- 
pany commanded  by  Captain  Simpson,  and 

I  came  back  to  them  a  man  in  years,  though 

13 


i 


•'fir 


iH  '.',' 


146 


atherton's  narrative. 


feeble  in  strength  and  frail  in  appearance. 
The  meeting  indeed  was  unexpected  to  them, 
and  none  can  tell  the  fullness  of  joy  that 
reigned  in  my  own  heart. 

A  kind  and  merciful  Providence  had  pre- 
served and  sustained  me  through  all  the  per- 
ils with  wh^'ch  I  was  surrounded,  and  unto 
Him  do  I  give  the  praise  for  my  safety.  Ma- 
ny years  have  passed  since  the  occurrences 
detailed  in  this  narrative  took  place.  I  may 
now  almost  be  classed  in  the  number  of  old 
men.  My  avocations  have  been  those  of 
peace.  I  have,  for  nearly  twenty  years,,  as 
an  ordained  Minister  of  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church,  endeavored  to  teach  the  mild 
doctrines  of  my  blessed  master.  Yet  it  may 
not  be  without  its  use  to  my  young  country- 
men to  know  what  their  fathors  have  suffer- 
ed. I  have  told  them  a  plain  unvarnished 
tale,  which  while  it  may  encourage  them  to 
be  bold  in  their  country's  cause,  may  Iso,  ac- 
quaint them  with  what  they  owe  to  the  gen- 
eration that  has  just  preceded  them. 

W.  ATHERTON. 


atherton's  narrativr. 


147 


NoTU. — On  pages  29  and  30  of  the  fore- 
going narrative,  mention  is  made  of  the  re- 
ception, by  the  suffering  volunteers,  of  a  sea- 
sonable supply  of  clothes  that  had  been  made 
up  and  sent  to  the  army  by  the  patriotic  la- 
dies of  Kentucky.  I  have,  since  the  com- 
mencement of  this  publication,  met  with  an 
article  that  appeared  in  the  Frankfort  Com- 
monwealth (when  that  paper  was  under  the 
editorial  direction  of  Orlando  Brown,  Esq.) 
entitled  "  Kentucky  Mothers,"  in  which  al- 
lusion is  made  to  the  same  transaction.  I 
have  thought  it  not  irrelevant  to  append  it 
to  this,  as  it  shows,  in  a  striking  manner, 
the  deep  devotion  to  country  felt  by  the  la- 
dies of  Kentucky,  and  the  extent  of  the  sac- 
rifices they  were  prepared  to  make.  Al- 
though Mr.  Brown  did  not  give  the  name  of 
this  noble  mother,  I  have  his  permission  to 
state  that  the  lady  alluded  to  is  the  venerable 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Love,  who  yet  resides  in 
Frankfort,  beloved  by  ?kll  for  her  eminent 
worth,  and  characterized  by  high  intellectual 
endowments  associated  with  fervent  piety, 
unaffected  charity,  and  every  trait  that  dig* 
nifies  and  adorns  the  female  sex. 


I^ 


ATHERTON'S  NARKATIVX. 


•  V;  ■*  r, 


Ik 


KENTUCKY  MOTHERS. 


"  The  deep  interest  which  passing  events 
are  giving  to  the  history  of  the  campaigns  oi 
the  North- Western  Army,  naturally  sets  the 
memory  to  work  in  recalling  the  incidents? 
that  gave  them  their  peculiar  character.  The 
achievments  of  the  volunteers  under  the  gal- 
lant Harrison,  are  written  in  the  brightest 
pages  of  the  records  of  their  country,  and 
must  live  so  long  as  the  human  heart  thrills 
at  the  contemplation  of  deeds  of  lofty  hero- 
ism. But  Kentucky  does  not  point  solely  to 
her  brave  soldiers,  and  challenge  admiratioa 
for  them.  Far,  far  from  it;  for  to  the  noWe 
mothers  and  daughters  of  our  State  belongs 
a  chaplet  of  unfading  laurels.  They  espoused 
the  cau^'^  of  their  country  with  an  ardour 
never  surpassed  in  any  land  under  the  sun. 
Company  after  company,  batallion  after  ba- 
tallion,  left  the  State  for  the  scene  of  war, 
and  although  the  bloodiest  battles  were 
fouffht,  and  men  came  home  with  thinned 
ranks  and  wearied  frames,  and  the  wail  of 
the  widow  and  the  orphan  was  loud  in  the 
lament  for  the  slain,  the  fire  of  patriotism 
burnt  the  brighter,  and  the  women  of  Ken- 
tucky, never  faJteriag^  still  urged  on  the  men 


I's* 


atherton's  narrative. 


149! 


to  battle.  Although  we  were  at  that  time 
but  a  very  small  boy,  well  do  we  remember 
all  that  passed  under  our  observation  at  that 
stirring  period.  We  remember  the  letters 
that  were  received  from  the  volunteers  de- 
scribing their  sufferings  from  cold  and  hunger 
and  nakedness,  and  we  remember,  too,  how 
the  ladies  united  together  for  the  purpose  of 
sending  clothing  to  the  suffering  soldiery. 
They  fornied  themselves  into  sewing  societies, 
made  hunting  shirts,  knit  socks,  purchased 
blankets  and  fitted  up  all  kinds  of  garments 
that  could  add  to  the  comfort  of  the  troops. 
The  ladies  of  the  town  of  Frankfort,  alone, 
sent  two  wagon  loads  of  clothing  to  the  fron- 
tier, which  arrived  most  timely,  and  warmed 
alike  the  hearts  and  bodies  of  the  volunteers, 
for  they  reminded  them  that  such  wives  and 
mothers  and  sisters  deserved  to  be  defended 
at  every  possible  hazard. 

A  Spartan  mother  is  said,  on  presenting  a 
shield  to  her  son,  to  have  told  him  "  to  return 
with  it,  or  upon  it,^^  It  is  recorded  of  anoth- 
er, that  when  her  son  complained  of  the 
shortness  of  his  sword,  she  bade  him  "  take 
one  step  nearer  his  enemy  and  he  would  find 
it  long  enough."  And  for  such  sayings  as 
these,  the  Spartan  women  have  ever  since 
been  renowned  in  history.  We  remember 
an  incident  that  occurred  in  our  own  pres- 
ence during  the  last  war,  that  proves  that  a 
Kentucky  mother  was  fully  equal  in  courage. 
13* 


#(    >\ 


150 


ATHERTON'S   WARRilTlTE. 


.!•»■ 


ar 


|H 


and  love  of  country  to  any  of  those  whose 
fame  has  survived  for  so  many  ages.  We  beg 
leave  to  relate  it,  and  will  do  so  in  as  few 
words  as  possible. 

Soon  after  the  battle  of  the  river  Raisin, 
where  the  Captain  of  the  Frankfort  compa- 
ny (Pascal  Hickman,)  had  been  barbarously 
massacred  in  the  officers' house  after  the  sur- 
sender,  Lieutenant  Peter  Dudlev  retu'  led  to 
Frankfort  for  the  purpose  of  raising  another 
coilnpany.  The  preceding  and  recent  events 
of  the  campaigns  had  demonstrated  to  all, 
that  war  was,  in  reality,  a  trade  of  blood, 
and  the  badges  of  mourning,  worn  by  male 
and  female,  evidenced  that  here  its  most  dire 
calamitv  had  been  felt.  He  who  would  vol- 
unteer  now,  knew  that  he  embarked  in  a  haz- 
ardous enterprise.  On  the  occasion  alluded 
to,  there  was  a  public  gathering  of  the  peo- 
ple. The  young  Lieutenant,  with  a  drummer 
and  fifer,  commenced  his  march  through  the 
crowd,  proclaiming  his  purpose  of  raising  an- 
other company,  and  requesting  all  who  were 
willing  to  go  with  him,  to  fall  in  the  ranks. 
In  a  lew  moments  he  was  at  the  head  of  a 
respectable  number  of  young  men;  and,  as 
he  marched  around,  others  were  continually 
dropping  in.  There  was,  in  the  crowd  of 
spectators,  a  lad  of  fifteen  years  of  age;  a 
pale  stripling  of  a  boy,  the  son  of  a  widow, 
whose  dwelling  was  hard-by  the  parade 
ground.  He  had  looked  on  with  a  burning 
heart,  and  filled  with  the  passion  of  patriot- 


ATHERTON*S  NARRATIVE. 


151 


ism,  until  he  could  refrain  no  longer,  and,  as 
the  volunteers  passed  again,  he  leaped  into 
the  ranks  with  the  resolve  to  be  a  soldier. 
** :  ou  are  a  brave  boy,"  exclaimed  the  Cap- 
tain, "and  I  will  take  care  of  you;"  and  a 
feeling  of  admiration  ran  through  the  crowd. 
In  a  little  time,  the  news  was  borne  to  the 
widow,  that  her  son  was  marching  with  the 
volunteers.  It  struck  a  chill  into  her  heart, 
for  he  was  her  oldest  son.  In  a  few  moments 
she  came  in  breathless  haste,  and  with 
streaming  eves,  to  the  father  of  the  editor  of 
this  paper,  who  was  her  nearest  neighbor, 
and  long  tried  friend.  "Mr.  Brown,"  said 
she,  "James  has  joined  the  volunteers!  the 
foolish  boy  does  not  know  what  he  is  about. 
I  want  you  to  make  haste  and  get  him  out  of 
the  ranks.  He  is  too  young — he  is  weak  and 
sickly.  Mr.  Brown,  he  will  die  on  the  march. 
If  he  does  not  die  on  the  march  he  will  be 
killed  by  the  enemy,  for  he  is  too  small  to 
take  care  of  himself.  If  he  escapes  the  enemy 
he  will  die  of  the  fever.  Oh,  my  friend,  go  and 
take  him  away."  After  a  few  moments,  she 
commenced  again — "I  do  not  know  what  has 
got  into  the  boy — I  cannot  conceive  why  he 
wants  to  go  to  the  army — he  could  do  no- 
thing, he  is  able  to  do  nothing."  Again  she 
paused;  and  at  last  rising  from  her  seat,  with 
her  eyes  flashing  fire,  she  exclaimed — "But 

I  WOULD   DESPISE    HIM,    IF    HE   DID    NOT    WANT 

TO  go!"     That   noble  thought  changed  the 
current  of  her  reflections,  and  of  her  grief— 


III  * 


i  •'!> 


Is'* 


;'i.  il' 


m 


y 


152 


atherton's  narrative. 


she  went  home,  prepared  with  her  own  hands 
the  plain  uniform  of  that  day  for  her  son,  and 
sen,t  him  forth  with  a  mother's  blessing. 
The  lad  went  on  with  the  troops,  bore  all  the 
toils  oj  the  march,  was  in  the  battle  at  Fort 
Meigs,  and  fought  as  bravely  and  efficiently 
as  the  boldest  man  in  the  company.  The 
widow's  son  again  came  home  in  safety.  Her 
patriotism  has  not  been  unrewarded.  On 
yesterday  I  saw  that  son  bending  over  the 
sick  bed  of  the  aged  mother.  He  is  the  only 
surviving  child  of  a  numerous  family,  and 
has  been  spared  as  the  stay  and  prop  of  her 
declining  years. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  the  Kentuckians  are 
brave  and  chivalric?  Were  they  otherwise, 
they  wop'i  :'  e  recreant  to  the  land  of  their 
birth,  and  a  reproach  to  their  mothers'  milk." 

Erratum, — Foi    Captain    Watson ,   read 
Gaptain  Matson,  wherever  it  occurs.. 


0  ^ 

3^. 


5088  #- 


own  hands 
jr  son,  and 

blessing, 
ore  all  the 
tie  at  Fort 
efficiently 
my.  The 
ifety.  Her 
rded.     On 

over  the 
is  the  only 
mily,  and 
•op  of  her 

ckians  are 
otherwise, 
id  of  their 
ers'  milk." 


son,   read 

rs.. 


0   DJu 


"f/- 


'\ 


